


Du Kannst auf Mich Zählen.

by thesameoldfairytale



Series: Standing at the Point of No Return. [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Otabek Altin, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Angst, Anxiety, Confusion, Fear, Friendship, M/M, Mature content in the second chapter, Poor Yuri Cries A Lot, Secrets, Self-Doubt, Slow Burn, Swearing, blowjob, communication issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-14 15:06:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesameoldfairytale/pseuds/thesameoldfairytale
Summary: This story follows the events of the GPF Final in Vancouver, pretty much exactly four years after Yuri and Otabek met in Barcelona.





	1. Jetzt.

**Author's Note:**

> Yuri is still 19 here, Otabek turned 23 between the beginning of the last part and this one.
> 
> Not beta'd. 
> 
> Translations:  
> Story - You Can Count on Me.  
> Chapter One - Now.  
> Chapter Two - Here.  
> Chapter Three - Always.  
> Chapter Four - Melomania.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri arrives in Vancouver alongside Victor, Yuuri, Yakov, Lilia and Mila, and finally gets to see Otabek before the first day of the competition.

Yuri knew he could be insufferable and a tiny part inside of him was very aware that he was being a total douche right about now. He blamed many of his mood swings during the flight on the company he had to endure.

He was on a plane on his way to Vancouver with Victor, Yuuri, Mila, Yakov and Lilia. Victor and Georgi had retired after the end of the previous season but the former was still Katsudon’s coach, hence why he was on this trip, and currently driving Yuri insane.

“Why are you sulking, Yurio?” Victor asked, leaning over the back of Yuri’s seat and obviously tempted to pat the younger Russian’s hair. He refrained from doing so when Yuri shot him an annoyed glare over his shoulder.

“Because you won’t shut the fuck up, old man,” Yuri growled, Mila chuckling next to him.

“Are you nervous?” Yuuri then cut in, hoisting himself up on the back of Mila’s seat.

Yuri turned around in his seat now to face the other skater. “Why would I be, Katsudon?” he spat out, his eyes small and threatening.

“Because you get to see Otabek again,” Victor happily interrupted them both.

Feeling a blush coming on, Yuri quickly turned around again to look away from the older men.

“Just fuck off,” he almost mumbled but still loud enough for the men behind him to hear him. They started laughing cheerily and sat back down in their seats.

Yuri felt himself getting angry at them, or rather at himself for letting them push his buttons so easily.

“Just ignore them,” Mila said, an understanding smile gracing her lips. She patted Yuri’s knee twice before she returned to reading her magazine.

Putting his headphones on, Yuri tried to calm down. He was listening to some remixes of original songs that Otabek had sent him over the years. A little while ago Yuri made a playlist with all the songs Otabek was comfortable enough to share with him, and they always helped him relax, even the more upbeat ones.

Some time later Yuri opened his eyes again to Mila nudging his arm. She was showing him her phone. At first Yuri wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking at but then he realised she wanted him to know that they would be landing in about an hour. Yuri had slept for quite some time after their short layover in Amsterdam and he wasn’t really that tired anymore, but his entire body was still hurting. He couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and lie down, not to sleep, just to relax and stretch his aching muscles.

Yuri had sent Otabek a text when they all left St. Petersburg for their first flight and then another just before their boarded the next plane for the second part of their journey. Otabek had arrived in Vancouver the previous night and asked Yuri to keep him updated. Yuri wished that he could’ve flown out earlier as well, mainly because he would’ve been able to see Otabek for a day longer, but also because he could’ve used the extra opportunity to get used to the ice of the Canadian rink.

By the time the plane touched down in Vancouver, Yuri had a hard time maintaining his nonchalant and indifferent behaviour. On the inside, he was bursting with excitement. He hadn’t seen his best friend in six months and he couldn’t wait to be around Otabek again, especially since the Kazakh was one of only a handful of people Yuri actually considered sane.

Yuri had been competing in so many events around the entire world for almost a decade now and he thought that at some point his body would adjust to the time differences a little easier, but realising that it was only noon when they landed, did funny things to his stomach and his mind. It was so confusing.

They all disembarked from the plane and made their way towards the baggage claim with Victor and Yuuri leading the way, Yuri and Mila strolling along behind them, and Yakov and Lilia holding the group together at the end. Yuri wasn’t particularly tired but he wasn’t really in the mood to see Victor and Yuuri’s freakishly annoying lovey-dovey act either. He tried his best to ignore both of them by putting on his headphones again when they reached the baggage claim, but listening to Otabek’s music just made him nervous with excitement again.

The cab ride to the hotel seemed somehow a lot shorter to Yuri than it probably actually was. He grabbed his back from Yavok and walked towards the hotel entrance, Victor and Yuuri in front of him again. With his hands placed deep in his jacket’s pockets and his eyes fixed on the ground just in front of him, Yuri didn’t notice how Victor and Yuuri were enthusiastically waving at someone until they suddenly stopped in front of him in the lobby and Yuri unintentionally ran into them.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you morons," he swore under his breath before he looked up to find a dark pair of familiar brown eyes staring at him from the other side of the lobby.

Otabek was standing there, a book in his hands that he was no doubt reading up until a second ago, and one corner of his mouth crooked into a tiny smirk.

Before Yuri realised what he was actually doing, he pulled his headphones off of his ears and pushed Victor and Yuuri almost violently out of his way. He didn’t see either one of them stumbling to the side when he practically sprinted towards Otabek. Yuri was about half an inch taller now than Otabek, which meant he was too tall to jump up on the older man to fling his legs around his waist like he used to do a couple of years ago, so instead Yuri had to settle on a bone-crushing hug. His arms and hands were holding on to the back of Otabek’s jacket as tightly as he could while he buried his face in the older man’s neck.

Yuri didn’t notice that his eyes were filling with tears until Otabek pulled back from his embrace, but only so far so that he could see Yuri’s face. Otabek didn’t step away either, their legs and chests still touching, their faces probably too close but they didn’t care. Yuri’s hands came to rest on Otabek’s shoulders while the Kazakh had one hand on the small of the blonde’s back. Yuri smiled shyly when Otabek pushed a few strands of his long hair back behind his ear, but it wasn’t just that what made Yuri’s heart beat a little faster. Otabek had that small smile on his lips that was strictly reserved for Yuri and his family.

“Why are you crying, Yura?” Otabek asked softly, his voice soothing Yuri immediately.

“You would be too if you had to spend thirteen hours on a plane with these idiots,” Yuri said, smiling brightly and gesturing to his company somewhere behind him.

He saw Otabek nod politely in the direction of where he figured Victor and Yuuri were still standing, probably grinning like maniacs.

“Fair enough,” Otabek only replied as soon as his eyes focussed on Yuri again.

They were just staring at each other for what other people would probably think was a little too long, until Otabek spoke up again, his gaze entirely fixed on Yuri like nothing and no one else mattered.

“It’s nice to see your face so clearly instead of through a laptop screen.”

Yuri didn’t say anything to that. He just pulled Otabek closer to him for another hug. They only let go of each other when they heard someone clearing their throat next to them.

They both pulled back and turned around, but didn’t step away from each other, their shoulders still touching.

“Yuuri, Victor, how have you been?” Otabek asked way too politely for Yuri’s taste.

The blonde Russian was glaring at the two men in front of him for interrupting his reunion with his best friend. Yuri’s instincts told him to shout some rather unpleasant swearwords in their direction because of it. Only Otabek’s presence by his side prevented him from doing so.

Yuri hated the way Victor was grinning from ear to ear whenever he saw Yuri talking to Otabek. He hated Katsudon’s smug smirk like he knew something Yuri didn’t, whenever Yuri smiled at Otabek, and he hated the way both men made him feel so self-conscious when they were around him and Otabek.

Since Victor apparently couldn’t remember how to act like a normal human being, although when did he ever, Yuuri eventually found some words to offer Otabek some sort of response.

“Very well. Thank you, Otabek,” Yuuri said just as politely as Otabek had asked.

Yuri saw his friend opening his mouth again and he felt the indescribable urge to intervene, so before Otabek could say anything, he quickly cut in.

“Can’t you two go and check us all in?” Yuri asked and then added one of his signature insults just for good measure, “For fuck’s sake.”

“Of course,” Yuuri quickly replied and that damn smirk returned, much to Yuri’s dismay.

Yuuri then grabbed Victor’s arm and dragged him towards the hotel reception. The silver-haired Russian was still grinning widely at the younger skaters and waving pathetically at them while he stumbled away.

Trying his best not to roll his eyes too hard, Yuri quickly turned back around to Otabek as soon as the older men were out of earshot.

"Anyway," Yuri said, the sound of Otabek’s little chuckle causing Yuri’s heart to grow two sizes larger.

Yuri found it very difficult to not let his eyes wonder all over Otabek at least once. Thankfully they were still standing too close together for him to do that anyway, and stepping back from Otabek just wasn’t an option, Yuri decided instantly.

“I thought you’d be at the rink right now,” Yuri then said, the question of why Otabek was at the hotel instead pretty much implied in his statement.

“I was,” Otabek actually agreed, “but I came over when Yuuri texted me that you guys landed.”

Yuri’s eyebrows quickly furrowed in confusion, only to turn into something else a fraction of a second later. What exactly that feeling was, he wasn’t quite sure of.

“Ok, seriously, what’s up with you and Katsudon keeping in touch behind my back?” Yuri asked curiously with a tinge of judgement in his voice as well.

“Nothing. He just keeps me updated on all the shenanigans you get up to that you don’t tell me about,” Otabek explained, shrugging his shoulders casually. His face was incredibly serious, which was pretty much Otabek’s standard look, just normally not around Yuri.

“Pffft… You wish,” Yuri responded, hoping that Otabek’s façade would crack. It did, as evident by the small smile forming on his lips.

Yuri felt a tiny bit uncomfortable about his best friend apparently being friends, more or less, with Yuuri, but he wasn’t too worried. There wasn’t really anything he kept from Otabek anyway, and therefore there wasn’t much Yuuri could tell the Kazakh that would be embarrassing for Yuri.

Otabek then leaned over to the side and grabbed the book he was holding before. He put it in his black leather bag and then faced Yuri again.

“I have to get back to the rink,” he announced whilst reaching out for Yuri’s hand, and Yuri was suddenly not sure anymore how to form proper words so he just nodded instead. “See you for dinner later?”

Yuri nodded again, this time more enthusiastically. Now that he had seen Otabek, the exhaustion that was so easily masked by excitement when he was still on the plane, was now back in full force. As if on cue, he couldn’t help but yawn.

“You should get some rest, kitten,” Otabek advised, squeezing his fingers tightly around Yuri’s for a brief moment.

When another yawn escaped Yuri’s mouth, he began to feel pathetic for only nodding along.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Otabek said with a wink before he walked away. He held on to Yuri’s hand for a step or two before letting go.

Yuri’s eyes followed him until he was out of the hotel and out of his sight. The hand that wasn’t holding Otabek’s just a few seconds ago unconsciously reached up to find the other one that did, still warm where the other man’s fingers had just been. Otabek’s touch on his hand felt a lot like a sunburn… it was amazingly warm comforting while it lasted but once you stepped away from it and into the shadow, your skin was literally crawling in pain.

“Yuri,” Yakov yelled from somewhere too close to him. He practically jumped at the sound of his coach’s voice. “Let’s go.”

Quickly shaking his head once or twice, Yuri’s usual look of annoyance and rudeness was back in full force before he even started walking towards everyone. He only looked up when he reached the elevator along with everyone else, but the second he did, he wished he hadn’t.

“Just shut the fuck up, god damn it,” he growled dangerously, apparently fooling no one.

Yakov and Lilia made no sign of even paying any attention to them, but Victor, Yuuri and even Mila were grinning and laughed all giddily like he had just learnt how to walk.

“No one said anything,” Mila informed him as if he didn’t know that already.

“Whatever,” Yuri just spat out right when the elevator doors opened.

* * *

Yuri and the rest of his group, surprisingly even Yakov and Lilia, met Otabek and his coach later for dinner at some random Indian restaurant that was probably only picked because it was fairly close to the hotel they were all staying it. Victor, however, insisted that he had been there before and that the food was amazing. As it turned out, the food didn’t even matter to Yuri.

He had his chin propped up in the palm of his hand while he aimlessly poked around his plate, shuffling food from one side to the other. Otabek’s coach was deep in conversation with Yakov, Lilia and Victor, who was gesturing wildly with his hands. Mila and Yuuri also seemed to be distracted by talking about next day’s Short Programs. Yuri basically wanted to be anywhere but there. He sighed deeply when he felt Otabek’s hand on his knee under the table.

Otabek leaned a little closer to him before he asked “Are you alright?”

Between Otabek’s hand on his knee and his big brown eyes so close to him, Yuri momentarily forgot how to react. He caught himself staring and quickly cleared his throat as quietly as he could.

“Yeah, I just,” he began, thinking about what he actually wanted to say, “I just wish no one else was here.”

Otabek pulled his hand back from Yuri’s knee and instead reached out behind him to place his arm over the back of Yuri’s chair. Yuri watched him as he looked around the table, the crease between his dark eyebrows visible.

“Yeah,” Otabek then sighed, “me too.”

Yuri smiled sadly down on his plate. He was sulking through the rest of dinner, foolishly thinking that no one would notice.

By the time they all got up from their seats and grabbed their coats to leave, Yuri had fallen completely silent. He knew he was easy to read. He knew he didn’t manage to uphold his usual public self, meaning his tough and angry self. He knew he slipped up. He just didn’t care enough to be bothered by it, despite the occasional looks everyone was sending his way.

While everyone else was happily chatting on their way back to the hotel, Yuri and Otabek walked silently side by side, a little further behind the rest of the group.

“Yura, what’s going on?” Otabek eventually asked.

Yuri could tell his friend was worried and cringed at the thought that it was because of him. He wanted to explain what bothered him but the longer he thought about it, the more lost he found himself. Yuri didn’t know what was going on with him, couldn’t understand why his mood had sunk so low. He made it to the Grand Prix Final, again. Otabek made it to the Grand Prix Final, also again. Why was he so upset? Yuri had no reason to feel so down.

“I don’t know,” Yuri finally managed to get across his lips.

He didn’t see the frown on Otabek’s face or how hard it was for the older man to keep his hands buried in his jeans pockets when he was just so desperate to hug Yuri.

* * * 

Yuri was back in his hotel room, lying flat on his back and stretched out on his bed, which was surprisingly comfortable. He checked the time on his phone only to be incredibly frustrated when he saw that it was just shortly after 8.30pm.

Yakov, and Victor, talked him into taking a nap earlier after they had arrived at the hotel. That nap lasted almost six hours which Yuri slightly regretted now. Most of all because he had wasted valuable time he could have spend practicing, even though Yakov told him to rest that day, but also because he was wide awake and the fact that he felt like shit didn’t really help either.

He thought about dinner and how annoyed he had been, and actually still was. Even though he would never ever, under any circumstances, admit to any living soul that he cared about his coach and rink mates, which did include Victor, he had been frustrated with every single one of them during dinner. All of them tagging along after Yuri had told them that he would be meeting up with Otabek for dinner, wasn’t really his idea of a fun evening, and now he had been forced back into his room by Victor of all people. The other Russian had told him that he needed to get a good night’s sleep which Yuri thought was pretty ironic since he was probably sitting downstairs at the bar with Yuuri right this second. Yuri despised the double-standard behind it.

Letting out an annoyed puff of air, Yuri’s phone quickly caught his attention when his phone buzzed once. He reached out for it and checked the message.

 **Otabek:** _715_

Yuri suddenly grinned broadly at nothing and no one in particular. Before he could type a reply or even sit up, the phone in his hands buzzed again.

 **Otabek:** _If you want._

Without thinking about it twice or even replying to the messages, Yuri threw his team Russia jacket back on and left his room.

Since room 715 was only one floor above his own, Yuri decided to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. He took two steps at a time but tried his best to be careful not to trip. Once he reached Otabek’s room, he knocked once on the door and took a step back.

Otabek opened up just a beat later. He was dressed in a black pair of jogging bottoms and a simple white shirt with his Kazakhstan team jacket hung casually over his shoulders. It was a look Yuri had seen countless times. Otabek’s hair was wet and his feet bare, probably because he just stepped out of the shower.

“Hey,” he greeted Yuri happily. “Come on in.”

Yuri didn’t have to be asked twice. He stepped past Otabek immediately and walked into the room. Surprised to find only one large bed, Yuri asked “Aren’t you sharing a room with your coach?”

He figured that the only reason Otabek had even asked him up to his room was because his coach would be down at the bar, but it certainly looked like his assumption wasn’t correct.

“Thankfully not,” Otabek only said, grabbing an already quite damp towel to dry his hair a little.

Yuri didn’t wait for Otabek to say anything else. He just made himself comfortable by sitting down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. It was far from the first time they’ve been in each other’s hotel room so nothing about what Yuri did was out of the ordinary by any means.

“What are you watching?” Yuri asked, only partially interested in what was actually showing on the TV. The sound was muted anyway which lead him to believe that Otabek hadn’t really been interested in it either when he put it on.

“I have absolutely no idea. I just put it on for background noise I guess.”

Yuri watched as Otabek left for a second to, he assumed, put the towel over the heater in the bathroom. When he came back, he grabbed the TV remote control and sat down on the bed next to Yuri, his back against the headboard and his legs crossed by the ankles. They mirrored each other’s position perfectly.

“Are you feeling any better?” Otabek then suddenly asked, and Yuri still strongly disliked the concern in his voice.

“I am now,” Yuri said, hoping that Otabek would know that he genuinely meant it. Judging by the relieved look on Otabek’s face, he did.

“I’m glad.”

Something inside Yuri was still stirring uncomfortably and he really wanted to talk to Otabek about it but he couldn’t until he figured out what it actually was he was so anxious about.

Stealing the remote from Otabek, Yuri zapped from one channel to the next, commenting on every single programme he flicked past. They eventually settled on a dumb quiz show, only to make fun of the contestants. They were laughing loudly at the stupidity of one of the contestants when they gave a wrong answer, even though the right one was so obvious, at least to the two of them, when Yuri suddenly remembered something.

“Speaking of South Korea,” he almost choked out, still trying to calm down from their last fit of laughter, “do you want your birthday present now?”

Otabek had turned 23 at the end of October but since they weren’t able to see each other and Yuri was just so incredibly inept when it came to buying presents, even for Otabek, he saved his gift for now. He could’ve told Otabek about it on his actual birthday but he figured there would be no fun in doing that.

“So you did get me something after all?” Otabek asked teasingly, still holding his stomach from laughing so much.

Yuri nudged his arm playfully but when he was about to pull his hand back, Otabek caught it. Yuri stared briefly at Otabek’s hand holding his before he looked up into the older man’s shining brown eyes, and only one thought crossed his mind then: sunburn, sunburn, sunburn.

“Well,” Yuri quickly said, pulling his hand back to end this awkward moment, “I did.”

He thought he saw a flicker of disappointment flash across Otabek’s face but he wasn’t sure if it was caused by him pulling back his hand or him getting him a present. One option more likely than the other, and Yuri didn’t know how to feel about it. Instead of worrying about it though, Yuri tried to play innocent.

“I suppose it’s actually a gift for me that I’m trying very hard to pass off as a gift for you,” Yuri said, forcing himself to smile wickedly and, much to his surprise, it seemed to work. Otabek was looking at him expectant in an excited way, rather than a disappointed one.

“Is that so?” Otabek asked, one eyebrow raised and one corner of his mouth raised.

“So you know how Four Continents are in Seoul this season?” Yuri asked, knowing full well that Otabek was aware of that, but he didn’t know how else to start.

“Yeah,” Otabek said, actually almost asked.

“I talked Yakov into letting me fly out to see you there.” Yuri saw Otabek’s eyes grow a little wider with every word that passed his lips and before he could stop himself, he rambled on. “I mean, I’ll only get there on the Friday, hopefully in time for your Short program, and chances are Yakov will book me on a flight that leaves incredibly early Monday morning, and we probably won’t even get to spend that much time together, since you know, you’re competing but,” he couldn’t help but take a breath, “at least this way I get to see you skate and we don’t have to wait until Worlds to see each other again.”

Yuri was looking at Otabek a little uncertain as the other man had gone so very still and quiet. The TV was now literally just background noise that Yuri barely registered. He flinched momentarily when Otabek leaned forward all of a sudden to wrap his arms around Yuri’s slim frame. They may be about the same height these days but Yuri was still so much skinnier than Otabek.

Feeling Otabek’s nose nuzzle his neck, Yuri quickly gave in, relaxing completely in Otabek’s arms. Yuri closed his eyes and took a deep breath, unconsciously inhaling the scent of the other man that he had grown so fond of over the past years, because it made him feel safe. For Yuri, knowing Otabek was there, was feeling safe.

“Are you serious, Yura?” Otabek mumbled at some point, the sound of his voice slightly uncertain, but Yuri was quick to nod, knowing that Otabek would feel it at the side of his face.

When Otabek pulled back, he rested his hands on Yuri’s upper arms to look him straight in the eyes.

“You really want to waste four days worth of practice for Worlds and travel like, what? Over 4000 miles just to see me compete in Four Continents?” Otabek apparently couldn’t help but ask. Yuri wasn’t sure why he sounded so confused. If he could, he would move to Almaty just to be able to see his best friend every day.

“No need to sound so surprised,” Yuri said playfully, but he felt himself blushing a little so he quickly looked down, pretending to inspect the hem of his shirt for any loose threads.

“Then that’s a pretty ace birthday present,” Otabek finally, and seemingly quite happily, stated.

Surprised by another, albeit much shorter hug that followed, Yuri got a little overwhelmed to function properly.

“Now don’t make it awkward, idiot,” Yuri then said, trying to wiggle out of Otabek’s embrace.

They ended up flicking through the channels again, randomly commenting on every film they found by making up their own stories about what the film could be about. Another hour or so passed before they both almost simultaneously fell asleep, Yuri sprawled out flat on his back with Otabek a few inches away from him, curled in on himself but facing Yuri.

Around 2am in the morning, Yuri groggily woke up, confusion as to where he was clouding his mind but when he saw the TV that was still on and two phones sitting on the bedside table, he remembered where he was. The next thing he became aware of was the heat at his back and something warm on his stomach. Yuri tried to turn his head around just far enough to figure out why he was so warm when he clearly wasn’t covered by a duvet. When his eyes focussed in on the cause of his cosiness, he saw Otabek pressed tightly to his back. Turns out that warm feeling on his stomach was caused by Otabek’s hand shoved just that tiny little bit under Yuri’s t-shirt, resting comfortably on the soft skin there.

Yuri’s thoughts were all over the place. It’s not like they hadn’t shared a bed before but this, _this_ had never happened before. Before he could mull over it for much longer, Yuri cautiously lifted Otabek’s arm and slowly slid out from underneath it. The sudden cold now sent a harsh shiver down his spine. He quickly picked up his team jacket from the floor where he had dropped it earlier, and put it on. Yuri grabbed his phone before he looked around the room for a blanket of some sorts. Since they had fallen asleep on top of the duvet, he couldn’t cover Otabek with that. Silently opening the wardrobe door, Yuri thankfully found a thick wool blanket that he carefully put over Otabek’s resting body. He thought about setting the room’s alarm clock for Otabek since he didn’t know the passcode to his phone but ultimately decided against it. Yuri just planned on ringing Otabek in the morning to wake him instead. Once his mind was made up, his feet carried him out of Otabek’s room and down the stairs to his floor as fast as they possibly could.

Yuri didn’t bother to change into his pyjamas. He just shrugged his jacket off and got rid of his sweatpants before he climbed into bed. Staring at the ceiling, Yuri placed one of his hands behind his head while the other rested on his stomach, exactly where Otabek’s hand had touched his pale skin less than five minutes ago. Only one single thought crossed his otherwise empty mind before he fell asleep yet again. _Another fucking sunburn._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Yuri struggles with his own mind whilst preparing for his Short program.


	2. Hier.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of the GPF is here and Yuri can't help but think about some things he'd rather not think about. Will his short program go as smoothly as everyone expects from him?

Unsure of how, or even why, he ended up back in Otabek’s room, Yuri’s attention was quickly diverted to something else entirely, most prominently Otabek’s lips on his and the other man’s hands on his hips. What was happening?

Yuri wanted to slap himself vigorously for enjoying Otabek’s touch so much. He couldn’t comprehend how Otabek’s rough hands slowly caressing his bare chest and back could possibly feel _this_ good. It was wrong, it was so very wrong to like what Otabek was doing to him, what he _let_ Otabek do to him.

Keeping his hands to himself right there felt like the most difficult thing Yuri ever had to do and his willpower was literally wasting away the longer Otabek kept his surprisingly soft lips on his. Yuri’s eyes grew impossibly wide when Otabek pulled back ever so slightly to leave a trail of barely there kisses along his jaw. It was the moment Otabek’s mouth reached the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder that Yuri couldn’t contain himself anymore.

He let one of his hands glide over Otabek’s back, almost too afraid to properly touch and feel. Otabek’s skin seemed so thin that Yuri could exactly pinpoint where his muscles were running along. He eventually rested one hand right between Otabek’s shoulder blades, feeling even the tiniest of movements Otabek made. The other hand that was now buried deep in his friend’s shiny black hair unintentionally tugged at it a little when Yuri felt Otabek biting down cautiously on his neck, the skin there burning up immediately.

Yuri tried his best to remember but he couldn’t recollect at what point they had both lost their shirts, and he was very aware of how his sweatpants were incredibly close to sliding down over his hips. Every deep inhale and every prolonged moment he was holding his breath, and therefore sucking in his stomach, his jogging bottoms revealed another patch of pale skin.

A part of him, admittedly a very very small part of him, wanted to put an end this. Yuri had to save his friendship, the only one he ever really valued, because Otabek was not someone he could handle to lose, not after everything they’ve been through and done for each other. Surely kissing and touching your best friend the way they were doing was not part of a healthy friendship. Yuri knew he should stop whatever it was they were doing before they would regret it later, but it was so difficult to listen to the rational part of his brain when Otabek had a steady grip on him like this.

Otabek then suddenly tangled his fingers through Yuri’s long blonde hair, while his other hand slid down Yuri’s back and under the waistband of Yuri’s sweatpants, just resting his callous and equally soft hand on his ass. Yuri held his breath again without even wanting to when he looked up into Otabek’s eyes, his pupils blown wide and his gaze filled with lust. Yuri couldn’t form a single coherent thought in his head but he thought he saw something else flickering in Otabek’s eyes besides the obvious want, something like a silent question asking if what he was doing and where he was touching was ok with Yuri, something he wanted too. Otabek needed to be reassured that he didn’t overstep, didn’t do anything Yuri was opposed to, and Yuri knew that if he were to say no, Otabek would step back and let him go in an instant. The little voice at the back of Yuri’s head told him to do exactly that, to say no, but Yuri just nodded instead. He barely had a second to understand what was happening before Otabek grabbed him by the back of his head to pull him closer by the neck and ass to press their lips together again.

Yuri couldn’t help but let completely lose then. He moaned into the kiss, his mouth opening involuntarily while Otabek used this opportunity to let his tongue slide inside. Yuri felt his knees buckle under the intense feeling, his mouth figuratively on fire, but he immediately pushed himself closer to Otabek, their already sweaty skin so insanely hot wherever they touched.

His mind was completely empty when Yuri eventually pulled back only to reach up to the back of his neck to grab Otabek’s hand. He entwined their fingers, took a couple of steps back from the other man and sat down on Otabek’s bed. Yuri watched as Otabek’s eyes first grew wider before they became impossibly small, the smug smirk on lips that followed immediately was inevitable.

Yuri’s insides flipped and his breath hitched when Otabek closed the distance between them, his eyes dropping down at him before he leaned forward to press a short and innocent kiss to Yuri’s lips.

“Is this really what you want?” Otabek then asked, uncertainty in his voice but Yuri couldn’t tell if he was uncertain about wanting it himself or if he was uncertain because he didn’t know what Yuri’s response would be.

Every cell in his brain told Yuri to get up and run, to apologise and to beg Otabek to forgive him for being so stupid to let things go this far in the first place, but his brain cells didn’t connect to his mouth in that very moment.

“Yes,” Yuri breathed out, surprised at how needy he sounded on the one hand, and how firm his reply was on the other hand. He knew he shouldn’t want this but he wanted it anyway. He wanted Otabek in every way he could imagine.

Otabek kissed him again briefly before Yuri moved back on the bed, resting his head on the wide pillows, his blonde hair perfectly framing his flushed face. His eyes were fixed on Otabek, watching his every move as he followed Yuri up on the mattress.

Grabbing the bedsheets as tightly as he could, Yuri lay incredibly still when Otabek started to pepper kisses down his chest. His tongue was sliding over Yuri’s nipples before he carefully nibbled on them only to ease the pain with another brush of his soft lips. Yuri pushed his head back into the pillow, shutting his eyes in the process. He could feel a single tear running down the side of his face, ultimately landing somewhere in his light hair, disappearing like it was never there to begin with.

When Otabek lifted himself up, Yuri almost whined at the loss of warmth radiating from Otabek’s body. Yuri was about to reach out his hands to pull the black-haired man back down, when Otabek placed his hands on the side of his hips, only a hair’s-width away from the waistband of his underwear. His sweatpants were already down so low, only his hardened cock in the way of it falling down completely. Otabek looked up at Yuri, his eyes silently enquiring something, and this time Yuri understood almost immediately what Otabek was after. It was consent, some sort of sign that would allow him to undress Yuri completely and proceed.

Yuri’s mind was blank, again. He stopped thinking about wrong and right, or what he was supposed to do when his entire body just told him to do what he _wanted_ to do. The only thing he still wanted, maybe even more so than before, was Otabek, so Yuri nodded wordlessly but as clear as he could.

Without another beat, Otabek tugged his fingers carefully underneath Yuri’s underwear and pulled them off, along with his sweatpants, so agonisingly slowly that Yuri was tempted to help him just to speed things up. For a second he thought that maybe Otabek’s hands worked as slowly as they did because he wanted to give Yuri another chance to back out, to take back that silent affirmation he gave him, but not one single fibre in his body told Yuri to take him up on that chance. Instead Yuri smiled shyly and almost desperately at Otabek once he was entirely rid of all pieces of clothing.

Yuri inhaled deeply, suddenly very aware that he was lying completely naked in front of his best friend, the only person he trusted so effortlessly and would willingly die for, but perhaps that was exactly why Yuri wasn’t blushing this time. It was this trust between him and Otabek that flushed the anxiety out of him, giving himself freely and eagerly to the other man at that point.

Once Otabek had taken off the last bits of fabric that covered Yuri, he let his hands slide gingerly from Yuri’s ankles up his calves and over his knees to his inner thighs before he applied only so much pressure to indicate to Yuri to spread his legs, which he did instantly.

Yuri saw Otabek smile at him, obviously pleased with himself, but there was something else about this smile, and the sparkling in Otabek’s eyes that told Yuri that the other man wanted this just as much as he did, and that actually did make Yuri blush.

It was hard for him to wrap his mind around the way Otabek was staring at him, his eyes wandering over every inch of his exposed skin. All of a sudden, thoughts of past girlfriends by Otabek’s side quickly crossed Yuri’s mind, unanswered questions bubbling up inside him. What was Otabek’s deal? What was his intention here and what was Yuri _really_ to him?

Just before Yuri could ponder about any of these questions any longer, Otabek’s lips next to his hands on his thighs were directing his attention straight back to the other man between his legs. Yuri noticed his cock already dripping with pre-cum, just before he saw Otabek’s hand move impossibly close to his length. He forced himself to keep his eyes fixed on Otabek. He didn’t want to miss a thing and seeing Otabek’s hands on body parts no one else besides himself had ever been allowed to touch, was strangely arousing, not that he needed to visually see it to get turned on. The burning sensation of Otabek’s touch was more than enough to push Yuri forward into unknown territory.

The irrational sight of twinkling stars in front of Yuri’s eyes caused his back to arch off of the mattress. Otabek’s tongue was licking up the underside of Yuri’s cock before his fingers wrapped around the base, probably for better guidance. Yuri’s eyes were squeezed shut in an instant despite his flaming desire to watch Otabek. His entire body was tingling, almost to the degree of him wanting to pull back and out of reach of Otabek’s touch. When Yuri felt Otabek’s lips close around the sensitive tip of his cock, he stopped fighting. He gave in to the indescribable pleasure he got from Otabek’s hot mouth around him, to the overwhelming sensation of Otabek’s fingers holding on to him, and to the flash of heat that ran through his entire body.

Yuri was consumed with want and need, want for more of Otabek and a simultaneous need for his own release, that he knew wasn’t far away. As if Otabek was reading his mind, Yuri had to do everything he could to hold back when Otabek hollowed his cheeks and almost swallowed his cock completely before he started to suck him off, setting a steady pace that was easy to fall into. Yuri forced himself to open his eyes and he blushed intensely when he saw that Otabek had one of his hands wrapped around himself, Otabek’s black jogging bottoms pushed down only so far so that his flushed cock was freed and he had access to stroke himself. Otabek’s lips around Yuri’s cock and his other hand around his own length, pumping himself to the same coordinated rhythm that he was sucking Yuri’s cock with, was truly a sight to behold, one that was about to push Yuri over the edge.

Yuri grabbed Otabek by his hair, probably a little firmer than he intended, but the other man didn’t seem to mind as there were no sounds of pain or protest. Yuri urged him to remove his mouth from his cock, which he did, just in time before Yuri spilled his cum uncontrollably over his stomach and Otabek’s hand, that kept stroking him until Yuri was completely spent.

Yuri’s eyes were pressed shut again so he could concentrate on riding that wave of pleasure as long as he possibly could. He vaguely registered Otabek moaning loudly, telling Yuri that he must have reached his climax as well. Yuri was so pleased, strangely happy and just _so_ content. It wasn’t as if Yuri didn’t know what an orgasm felt like, but the intensity he experienced now was something else. It was new and different. It was _better_ , so much better.

When he calmed down, very aware of Otabek’s head resting on his thigh, Yuri felt doubt rushing back into his head as forceful as an axe splitting a piece of wood. It was sharp and short, piercing his heart like a needle containing venom. Every muscle in his heart constricted, his entire body shaking with sweat, and the tears running down his cheeks were burning like acid.

Yuri suddenly sat up on the mattress, his breath uneven. When he opened his eyes again and looked around the room, his _own_ room, only two things came to his mind. The first one was simply regret, something he knew the meaning of and something he could handle, even if it would ultimately end with him hating himself for jeopardising his friendship with the one person he cared most about. The second thought popping up in his head was a little more difficult to deal with, so Yuri just accepted it for now without wondering about what its implications might be in the future.

When he blinked a couple more times, he finally realised that he was really in his own room, in his own bed. He was wearing the same shirt from before and the same underwear he thought Otabek pulled off of him, but most importantly, Otabek wasn’t lying next to him. That was the moment it hit Yuri like a ton of bricks - none of what had just happened actually happened. It had only happened in his mind. It had been a _dream_ , one that turned Yuri’s entire world upside down.

* * *

Unable to bring himself to actually call Otabek to wake him up like he planned on doing when he left the other man’s room in the middle of the night, Yuri decided to text him instead, hoping desperately that Otabek was already awake and he didn’t have to call him after all.

 **Yuri:** _Hey! Are you up?_

When he saw the two blue checkmarks light up, indicating that Otabek had read his message, Yuri let out a loud sigh. He was relieved to say the least.

 **Otabek:** _Yeah, I’m up._

 **Yuri:** _Good._

 **Otabek:** _Yura, are we cool?_

Yuri wasn’t sure what exactly prompted Otabek to ask him that. He was the one who had one of the most inappropriate dreams he could have ever imagined, not Otabek. Besides, nothing else actually happened between them, not intentionally anyway, and them spooning while they were asleep certainly wasn’t intentionally.

 **Yuri:** _Of course._

 **Otabek:** _Ok. See you downstairs for breakfast?_

That question threw Yuri off a little. He had completely forgotten about breakfast. Typing his reply before he could even think about what he was typing, Yuri did the one thing he usually never did when it came to Otabek. He lied.

 **Yuri:** _I’m already out. See you at the rink later._

He couldn’t tell whether it was his blatant lie or the fact that Otabek didn’t respond to his lie that made his stomach flip.

* * *  

When Yakov hammered on his door a little while later, Yuri was already quite desperate to finally leave the hotel. He figured that being on the ice might actually help take his mind off of things. Thankfully neither Yakov nor Lilia said anything when Yuri pulled his black hoodie so far down over his face that he could barely see where he was going. Yuri’s eyes were fixed on their feet walking in front of him, that was all he needed to find his way out.

Yakov and Lilia were both morning people, not in the sense that they were cheery and energised like other people who liked to wake up early were, but in the sense that they got up early to get stuff done, and for probably the first time ever Yuri was grateful for that little fact.

He tried very hard to force himself into the right mindset for the day. Yuri still had pretty much the whole day to go until the men’s single short program that night and he was determined to use that time wisely, only did he completely forget about the fact that Otabek would be at the rink too for a final practice before the first part of the competition.

Yuri was able to run through his program twice before Yakov and Lilia called him off the ice. He was breathing heavily and he knew why they were both looking at him like he just murdered someone. It was because he did. He completely butchered his short program, both times.

“You are not going to win if that’s what you’re planning on presenting tonight,” Yakov said, his voice harsh.

Yuri’s eyebrows furrowed in anger, even though he knew Yakov was painfully right but there was no way he would admit that to him.

“You’ve been skating like you’ve never had a ballet lesson in your life,” Lilia eventually added for good measure.  

Stalking off like a petulant child, Yuri threw his water bottle down in the vague direction of his bag before he untied his skates and took them off, all the while knowing full well that he should keep practicing.

Yuri barely registered Yakov and Lilia shouting after him when he stormed away from them. What was the point of it all anyway? He completely screwed up his routine and he highly doubted that he would magically pull it off that night. Yuri was not only angry, he was furious and he himself was the target of all that hate inside him. When he noticed some tears running down his cheeks, he couldn’t help but think of the time years ago when he found Yuuri crying in the toilets. He had never felt quite as pathetic as he did right there. It was humiliating and if he wasn’t down enough already, the universe seemed to think it wasn’t _quite_ enough yet.

Blindly trying to find his way to the restrooms, Yuri harshly bumped into someone and that someone, of course, turned out to be Otabek on his way to the ice.

“Yura,” Otabek said happily at first, but when Yuri looked up all he could see was worry written all over the other man’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering though, Yuri pushed Otabek out of his way. It was supposed to be hard and painful but even Yuri knew it was absolutely pathetic and laughable. He had no energy in him whatsoever.

He was hoping that Otabek wouldn’t follow him and much to his relief, and slight disappointment, he didn’t.

Yuri locked himself into a stall when he finally reached the restrooms and once again, the thought of Yuuri doing the exact same thing years ago was pushing its way to the front of his mind. Back then Yuri was making fun of the other skater, urging him to retire and throwing a bunch of insults at him. What had happened to him, Yuri had to wonder because now he was the one sitting in a bathroom stall sobbing.

He was a mess.

Yuri accepted a lot of things. He accepted that he screwed up his routine. He accepted that his head was miles away from where it should be. He even accepted that he probably had no chance at a gold medal this time. One thing he did not accept was the _why_ of it all. Did he really screw up his routine and put his chance at winning the GPF at risk, all because his mind was preoccupied with something else entirely, namely his best friend who he apparently wanted to be more than just his friend? Yuri refused to accept that his dream about Otabek might mean more to him than he lets himself believe.

 _It doesn’t mean anything_ , Yuri mumbled over and over again. _It doesn’t mean anything._

His hands were covering his face but the tears vanished. Yuri wasn’t even aware that he was shaking until he heard someone walk into the restroom. Before he could wipe at his wet cheeks, that someone opened his stall that he apparently forgot to lock after all. Yuri looked up, his eyes wide because he didn’t expect someone to be so blunt, only to see Otabek standing there in front of him. It took only a second before Yuri found himself standing and wrapped up in Otabek’s arms. Another second later and Yuri surrendered. Otabek’s body pressed against his, the other man’s arm around him and one of his hands holding his head in place right next to his, was too much for Yuri. He almost immediately started crying again, sobbing loudly because he didn’t know what else to do.

He wasn’t ready to give up what he had with Otabek, but accepting that he obviously must have feelings for Otabek that went beyond friendship would be his downfall. Yuri couldn’t imagine anymore what his life would be like without his best friend in it and he would be damned if he did anything that meant him and Otabek going their separate ways.

Just those thoughts alone made Yuri feel like his insides were being ripped into shreds. He held on to Otabek like his life depended on it, and in some way, it did.

They stood like this, pressed together tightly for what felt like eternity and a massive part of Yuri was reluctant to let go. He didn’t care about anything else besides him and Otabek, standing there, together. Nothing else seemed important, not Yakov and Lilia yelling at him, not the ice, and not the competition. It was just them, Otabek stroking his hair to calm him down, and that’s all Yuri really wanted.

But too soon Yuri’s conscience kicked in and he hurriedly pulled back from Otabek. He wiped his eyes and face clean, only to then squeeze past Otabek without even looking him.

“Yura,” Otabek called after him.

Yuri flinched at the sound of his voice. Otabek sounded so incredibly sad, heart-broken even, but it only made Yuri run away from him even faster.

Even though he didn’t want anything more than to disappear into thin air, Yuri went back to Yakov and Lilia. He silently, albeit grudgingly, put his skates back on and returned to the ice. Neither Yakov nor Lilia asked him where he had been or what he had been doing. Yuri figured that they either didn’t care or they just knew that he wouldn’t tell them anyway, so they let it slide and pretended nothing had happened, which technically was true. Neither one of them saw him cry his eyes out or flee from Otabek’s embrace.

Yuri tried his hardest to focus on his routine and its executions but he couldn’t ignore Otabek’s gaze on him. He was being watched, and while he normally didn’t mind if people, especially Otabek, did that, this time was different. Yuri was at his wits’ end. Otabek’s eyes on him were like an itch he couldn’t scratch or the awful St. Petersburg snow he couldn’t simply ask to go away.

Eventually Yuri had enough. After somehow making it through his routine another few times, and only barely passing it off as decent enough to Yakov and Lilia, Yuri packed his bag and left the rink for good. He hadn’t looked at Otabek once since he left him behind in the restroom.

* * * 

Surprisingly, Yuri had managed to avoid Otabek for the rest of the afternoon and he didn’t go to the rink where the GPF was held until he absolutely had to. He had lost all confidence in his short program by then, although he had won a gold and silver medal with it already, but what stung even a little more than his lack of self-confidence was the fact that Otabek had not tried to get in touch with him at all. Yuri didn’t really expect him to (why would he after the way he had dismissed him so forcefully earlier) but he still couldn’t shake the disappointed that was nagging at his insides.

By the time the men’s singles short program was about to start, Yuri was in more of a foul mood than he usually was. He thought he might as well give people what they expected of him, at least this way they wouldn’t be too surprised if he screwed up his routine, which he was sure he would do. If he presented himself the way he always did in public, cursing loudly, holding his head a little higher than everyone else and shining with arrogance, he was certain the press would have a field day with his failure. He would finally prove them right. _Yuri Plisetsky had a big mouth and nothing to show for it after all._ He could practically see the headlines.

This GPF Final was a repeat of his first one in the senior division in terms of the contestants. Besides him, Otabek and Yuuri, and with Victor now retired, there were Phichit, JJ and Christophe, who already announced he was retiring after this season. Yuri thankfully hadn’t run into JJ in the morning because, he assumed, the Canadian skater probably had some fancy VIP thing going on at a different rink. Usually it would’ve been only JJ he would ignore at any cost but now Yuri didn’t show any sign that he had ever met any of the other skaters before either. It wasn’t like he had ever been friends with Phichit or Christophe but he was normally on friendly terms with them, probably most likely because they were both friends with Yuuri and Victor.

Instead of socialising, not that ever really did, Yuri just put his headphones on and tried to drown everyone else out. He did his warm-up stretches and glanced up at the TV once in a while to see Christophe’s short program which was, as Yuri already knew, more than decent. The Swiss skater had put a lot of effort and dedication into the routines for his final season and it was definitely showing.

Once Christophe had left the ice, accompanied by loud and enthusiastic cheers from the audience, Yuri’s eyes focussed in on the TV as Otabek stepped on the ice. Yuri’s heart immediately clenched and his face was probably showing how much it hurt him but thankfully only his coaches, Victor and Yuuri were left in the warm up-area, all of them pre-occupied with themselves.

Yuri had seen Otabek’s routine and his costume before but seeing it now felt strange. Otabek was wearing a pair of black trousers and a black long-sleeved shirt that clung to his torso like it was glued onto him. The shirt had one large stripe in dark burgundy on either side, running from his neck down his arm and there was more of the glittery burgundy in a v-shape on his back and on his chest. Yuri had always known that his best friend was good-looking, as evident by all the people swooning over him regularly, but it was an entirely different word that came to his mind then. Otabek was _beautiful_.

Just when Yuri caught himself getting lost in his own thoughts whilst watching Otabek on the screen, Yakov bellowed at him.

“Yuri,” he almost growled, “let’s go.”

Barely able to take his eyes off of the screen, Yuri still managed to pull his hoodie over his head again and then followed Yakov and Lilia out.

“Good luck, Yurio,” Victor and Yuuri shouted at him from behind. Yuri only huffed. He definitely needed luck.

Yakov, Lilia and Yuri made it to the ice in time for them to see the end of Otabek’s short program. Yuri was trying to hide his eyes behind his hair and underneath his hoodie but he was following Otabek’s every move. It wasn’t just the costume that literally drew Yuri in, it was everything about the Kazakh skater. The way he was so gracefully gliding over the ice despite his bigger built (compared to Yuri anyway), and the way his eyes were sparkling with emotion just as much as the burgundy stripes on his shirt did. The execution of Otabek’s jumps was frightening in a sense that they were so perfect that Yuri was convinced yet again that he stood no chance at winning this competition. It was a slap in the face but at the same time Yuri was so incredibly proud of Otabek because he knew how underappreciated Otabek’s abilities had been for so long. He had worked so hard to get where he was and deserved all of the attention he got. Yuri’s heart was bursting with pride when the music came to an end and Otabek stood still on the ice in his final position.

“Yuri, get moving,” he suddenly heard Yakov yell at him.

Yuri quickly rid himself of his training clothes and walked towards the barrier of the rink. In the corner of his eye, he saw Otabek get off the ice and he could swear that the other skater was looking at him, but Yuri couldn’t bring himself to check if that was really the case. When he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder on the other side, Yuri turned around.

“Pull yourself together,” Lilia said to him, her eyes drilling into him.

Yuri just nodded once before he took his skate guards off and stepped forward on the ice.

Up until this point, Yuri tended to bask in the audience’s attention whenever he was competing. People were always cheering for him, knowing what he was capable of and expecting nothing less than perfection from him. That was exactly what he so desperately wanted to give them, what he owed every single person who has ever supported him, but neither his mind nor his heart was in it right then.

He came to a standstill in the middle of the ice, waiting for the music to start, when he felt the kind of anxiety rise inside him that he had only ever experienced off the ice. Yuri missed his cue and began his routine just a fraction too late. It was the first of many mistakes that he had to push himself through. He touched down on at least two of his jumps and changed another from a quad to a triple. Yuri did everything he always criticised other skaters for. He failed spectacularly.

Yuri didn’t allow himself to think of Yakov, or Lilia, or Victor, especially Victor who had choreographed his short program. For the first time in his life he felt guilty, guilty for not being able to give it his all and for disappointing Victor of all people by not doing his incredible choreography justice. Yuri never knew he could feel this kind emotion when it came to the older Russian and it threw him off even more.

One more jump and Yuri could finally put himself out of his own misery, one he had created for himself. The last jump was the only one he executed to his usual standard of utter perfection but it didn’t change anything.

He rushed back to the barrier as soon as the music had faded, holding his final position only so long as to not be penalised there as well. Yuri stepped off the ice, reaching out for the skate guards Yakov held out to him, before they made their way to the kiss and cry with Lilia. Probably much to literally everyone’s surprise in the arena, Yuri someone managed to come in third, but Yuuri’s short program was still to come.

Yuri barely held still long enough to sit through Yuuri’s routine without drawing any more unnecessary attention to himself, before the final results for the short program were announced. His lucky number, and it was a lucky one, was four and he had every reason to be grateful for that. Otabek came out on top as he expected, Yuri came in fourth, and even that was unrealistic to him.

Without another word, Yuri quickly grabbed his back and ran out of the arena. He stoically ignored everyone he passed. He didn’t hear Victor’s and Yuuri’s concerned voices calling after him, and he didn’t notice how Yakov and Lilia didn’t say a single thing, silently judging him, knowing that it would be even harder for Yuri to deal with than them yelling at him for the crap he pulled during his routine. Most significantly, Yuri didn’t see Otabek looking after him, a strange mix of worry and anger on his face.

* * *

Yuri literally crashed and burned as soon as he closed the door to his hotel room behind him. He was so angry with himself that it was very hard to keep himself calm enough not to trash his entire room. What had he done?

He knew what he did would have consequences and he was never going to hear the end of it, and it was all for nothing. Yuri had risked not only his chance at winning gold at the GPF but he basically put his entire career and reputation in jeopardy, and all because of one stupid dream that literally couldn’t mean _anything_. He had convinced himself that friendship was all he wanted from Otabek, that there was nothing else beyond that. There would never be anything beyond that and Yuri accepted that. But how could he possibly look Otabek in the eyes again or even begin to explain why he had been so awkward around him.

Mulling over everything that had happened since he arrived in Vancouver, Yuri took a shower to clear his mind, but all he really did was almost burn the skin all over his body. He stood so long under the hot water because he wanted to achieve one thing – recreate the burning sensation Otabek’s touch had left on him the previous day and night. He didn’t want to admit it, yet he was still longing for it desperately.

Yuri only snapped out of his haze when he heard someone banging on his door but it seemed so far away that he barely registered it at first. Once he did, he scrambled out of the shower as quickly as possible, even though he really wasn’t in the mood to see or talk to anyone. He towel-dried his long hair only for a second or two before he wrapped the bathrobe around his slim figure, safely tying the knot at the front.

Once Yuri walked out of the bathroom, he immediately stopped in his tracks when he heard Otabek’s distinct voice echoing through the door.

“Open the door, Yura,” Otabek was saying, his voice scarily even and unaffected. There was no hint of _any_ emotion in it. “If you don’t open the door right now, I’m going to get a key card from Yakov to get in and I know you wouldn’t want that.”

Yuri was fighting an internal battle, pondering over whether or not he should risk Otabek making his threat a reality and asking Yakov to let him into Yuri’s room, but his friend was right, he wouldn’t want that.

Defeated, Yuri willed his legs to walk again, taking one step at a time until he reached the door. He sighed deeply before he put his hand on the door handle and slowly pushed it down to let the other man in. Yuri was anxious already but he certainly didn’t expect Otabek to push his way inside his room as soon as the door had opened only a single inch.

Yuri stumbled backwards immediately. He felt dwarfed by Otabek towering over him, even though that was physically not possible anymore. Yuri was half an inch taller than the other man, how could he possibly feel so small and intimidated in front of his friend? One look at Otabek answered that question immediately.

In public, Otabek’s face never really showed how he truly felt on the inside, Yuri knew that, but his mask usually fell around Yuri. Over the years, Otabek almost turned into an open book when Yuri spend time with him alone. It was something Yuri was immensely proud of, even though it was equally intimidating, being able to make someone else open up this easily and voluntarily. Reading Otabek’s face now, Yuri wanted to close that book that he normally never got tired of reading.

“Tell me what happened,” was all Otabek said and now there was an edge to his voice that Yuri wanted to disappear.

Yuri couldn’t hear anything but the sound of their breaths and water dripping from his wet hair on to the carpet underneath his bare feet. He knew exactly what Otabek was talking about, but they were standing so close together, Otabek’s face and his lips, only a couple of inches away from him, that it was difficult to come up with any kind of reply, even if it would be a lie.

“What are you talking about?” Yuri instead asked, choking it out.

Otabek squinted so much that his eyes were almost closed. Of course, he wouldn’t fall for any of Yuri’s bullshit, but apparently he thought humouring Yuri would be ok in this situation.

“Explain to me where my _best_ friend was tonight because he sure as hell wasn’t on the ice,” Otabek said, his voice raised ever so slightly.

Yuri didn’t know what to do. There weren’t many options he could even consider and with Otabek standing so incredibly close to him, he couldn’t let his guard down. In the end, Yuri did the only thing he knew he was able to still pull of perfectly. He was rude and dismissive.

“You’re in first place and you will stay there until the competition is over,” he said, thinking that Otabek looked a bit confused, probably wondering where he was going with this. “There’s no reason for you to be concerned about me,” Yuri then added, his voice filled with venom in an attempt to make sure that Otabek would think that he didn’t need anyone, especially Otabek, to worry about him.

“Like it or not but I am concerned. I care about you, Yura,” Otabek then said.

He was obviously still angry but Yuri could hear a hint of desperation in his words as well, and suddenly it was very difficult for Yuri to hold back his tears. He didn’t deserve Otabek, not as a friend and definitely not as someone more than that.

“Why? Why would you give a damn about my routine when you’re well on your way to the gold medal?” Yuri couldn’t help but ask.

“Because a gold medal won’t mean anything here,” Otabek said, finally leaning backwards a little, ultimately giving Yuri some room to breathe.

“Of course it will,” Yuri insisted, all pretend-anger and rudeness suddenly gone, leaving him hopeless and vulnerable.

“No, it won’t,” Otabek practically spat out and Yuri followed up immediately with “Why the hell not?”

Yuri was seriously interested now to find out why Otabek wouldn’t be proud of his gold medal. His programs were original, varied and just amazing. He deserved to win more than anything.

“Because you screwed up today, Yura,” he said, taking a step forwards again and almost pinning Yuri against the wall. “Winning gold doesn’t mean anything to me knowing that you didn’t give it your all,” Otabek explained. “I don’t know what on earth happened to you during your short program but whoever was on the ice performing your routine tonight, it wasn’t you. This was not you. Winning without _you_ on the ice is absolutely worthless to me.”

Those words dug deeper into Yuri than he ever thought possible. He held Otabek’s gaze but he couldn’t move and words refused to form in his mouth. Otabek leaned in even closer and Yuri could feel his breath ghosting over his lips.

“If you happen to see my best friend before his free skate, please tell him to get his shit together. I’ll be watching and he’s not allowed to screw up again,” was all Otabek said to him before he suddenly turned around on his heels and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Yuri’s knees finally gave in and he slid down to the ground, using the wall behind him as leverage. He was sobbing before he could even comprehend what had just happened. Panic rising inside him, Yuri reached out for the bin that was stood under the table not too far from him, just in time for him to literally spill his guts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out waaay longer than I expected, but it is what it is I suppose.
> 
> \- Otabek's SP outfit is based on Denis Ten's FS outfit from the '16-'17 season (in case you want to check that out).  
> \- In regards to Yuri's outfit or music, I didn't really have anything specific in mind. The plan from the beginning was to make him fail spectacularly, so neither the music not his costume seemed relevant here. 
> 
> Next chapter is about the day off between the SP and the FS as well as Yuri's FS.


	3. Immer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri tries to sort out his issues during his day off in order to mentally prepare himself for his Free skate. The question is just if he manages to do that in time for his performance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, I have no idea what the male skaters do on the extra day between the SP and the FS. I assume it's a bit of press-related business but I seriously have no clue. For the sake of this story, let's just assume that they literally have a day off to do whatever they want. 
> 
> Also, I couldn't find any info on whether or not Yuuko actually has an account on Instagram or what her handle there might be, so I completely made that unoriginal bit of info in this fic up.

When Yuri woke up the next morning, his head was pounding and his heart was racing. Thoughts from the previous day came flooding back to him like an avalanche he was caught up in and couldn’t escape. He was overwhelmed with emotion ranging from sheer disappointment to raging fury, and he ultimately had only himself to blame.

Yuri somehow made his legs work the way he wanted them to and slipped out of his room and the hotel as soon as he could. He arrived at the practice rink even before it opened for the day. He couldn’t get Otabek’s words out of his mind.

The older skater had sounded so angry, angry at him, but what stung even more was the obvious worry his voice had carried along with the anger. Yuri hated himself for messing up his short program but he was still arrogant enough then to not give a damn about what people thought about him, apart from a selected few perhaps. One of those people was Otabek, more so even than anyone else.

The look on Otabek’s face when he had told Yuri that it wasn’t him on the ice performing his routine was unbearable, and all Yuri saw when he closed his eyes was that face. The creases on Otabek’s forehead, the tight clench of his yaw, his trembling lips and worst of all, the emptiness in his eyes. Yuri hated every single thing about it.

As soon as the doors to the rink opened, Yuri rushed inside. He figured he had a good two hours before Otabek and the other skaters would arrive. Yuri wasn’t ready to face his friend yet, too afraid to see the mix of anger and frustration flash across Otabek’s face again when he saw him. Yuri thought he had only disappointed himself by messing up his short program but now he knew that Otabek was disappointed in him as well, and that somehow hurt even more than any pain he could ever inflict on himself.

Yuri grabbed his skates and hurriedly put them on. He wanted to stretch but time didn’t allow for it, he would warm up on the ice instead. An hour passed like ten minutes and Yuri managed to run through his entire free skate a couple of times, feeling himself grow more and more confident with every step and turn.

His theme this season was “ _inspiration_ ”, something he was practically bathing in over the summer, mostly due to Otabek. Victor may have choreographed Yuri’s short program but his free skate was pretty much his own doing. Sure, Lilia had helped but the core of this routine came from Yuri. At the time, when he first started to ponder about his free skate, Yuri didn’t realise how much influence his best friend had in the way he thought about this routine. When Yuri looked at it now, he could clearly see parts of Otabek in it that he wasn’t aware of before.

Just before the other skaters slowly but surely made their way onto the ice, it suddenly hit him out of the blue. When he first came up with the idea of this season’s theme, he had thought about many things, things he didn’t know how to express in ways other than through his skating. He had thought about how Victor’s success inspired him to push himself to his limits, how Yuuri’s determination to rise from the ashes inspired him to never give up, how his grandfather’s unconditional love for him inspired him to always stay true to himself. But now, thinking about what Otabek had said to him the night before, Yuri realised there was one more thing that inspired him, which was probably the biggest inspiration of them all. It was Otabek and his stubborn way to always encourage Yuri to go beyond what he thought was possible. Otabek had unconditional faith in him and all Yuri had done with the performance of his short program was to show Otabek that his faith was misplaced.

This realisation left Yuri with two options. One, damn it all and give up on himself, and Otabek, or two, prove to his friend that he had every reason in the world to believe in Yuri as much as he did. He didn’t have to think long about which option he was going to choose.

Yuri saw his Japanese rink mate and Phichit come on the ice but there was no sign of Otabek yet. Taking this chance to heart, especially since Yakov and Lilia had just entered the arena as well, Yuri put his game face on and ran through his routine again. It was almost flawless and so close to Yuri’s usual exceptional standard.

Neither Yakov, not Lilia said anything to Yuri when he stepped off the ice. They pretended that last night didn’t happen, much to Yuri’s relief. Both of them simply nodded at him, obviously pleased with Yuri’s progress. They also knew better than to ask why he was already leaving.

Quickly ridding himself of his skates, Yuri grabbed his bag and made a beeline for the exit. He thought it would be better to get out before Otabek had a chance to see him. His friend’s harsh words from the night before may have lit a much needed fire of determination inside of him but he wasn’t ready to actually see Otabek, let alone talk to him and explain himself, simply because Yuri didn’t even know where to begin.

Yuri thought he made it outside without anyone holding him back but when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he flinched, expecting the worst. When he turned around though, all he could see was Victor’s face, and he didn’t like the look of it, although it wasn’t for the usual reasons. Victor looked concerned.

“Yurio.”

“What is it, old man?” Yuri asked, his voice lacking his standard edge. He was anxious and just wanted to get out. Luckily Victor didn’t comment on it, although Yuri was sure he would have under different circumstances.

“How do you feel about your free skate?” Victor asked, genuine interest showing in his words.

Yuri expected him to be more… pitying, when he looked at Victor’s face. He thought Victor would try to tell him that his short program wasn’t too bad, that everyone had an off-day once in a while and that his failure from last night didn’t say anything about his true abilities as a skater, but Victor didn’t even mention it and Yuri didn’t know how to react at first. He looked at the fellow Russian but couldn’t decipher any hidden message behind Victor’s words.

“Good,” Yuri simply stated, and it was true. He felt confident enough to think that he could pull this off the next day.

“Good,” Victor’s response echoed his own.

Yuri waited for a moment to see if Victor was going to say anything else but he just looked at him, no pity and no judgement in his eyes. Frowning at him briefly, Yuri then turned around and left the arena.

* * *

Unlike the previous day, Yuri decided against spending his entire day holed up in his hotel room sulking. He was psyched and too hyper to waste away watching crap TV. His feet were itching and the weather was surprisingly mild and nice for an early December day.

With his headphones on and his favourite playlist putting him into the right mood, Yuri wandered along the Waterfront in downtown Vancouver. He hadn’t seen much of the city yet but every new building and street corner made his eyes grow bigger. People were friendly and polite in a way Yuri had never really experienced anywhere else. He couldn’t help but smile to himself when he suddenly spotted something he remembered Victor telling him about a while ago

Yuri was standing in front of the Waterfront Skytrain station, a long line forming behind a cart that he recognised from one of Victor’s many many stories. It was early afternoon and people seemed to be drawn to the cart named JapaDog. Yuri quickly joined the queue, most of the people in front of him dressed in smart business attire. The line moved a lot faster than Yuri expected and before he knew it, it was his turn. At first a little confused by all the choices, Yuri went for their signature hot dog in the end, one that Victor had also recommended to him. It was the Terimayo one that combined teriyaki sauce, mayo and crisp seaweed flakes, and the extra kimchi he asked for, to create something incredibly unique.

Rummaging through his pockets for some money, Yuri paid for his hot dog and thanked the lady behind the cart politely. He was surprised at himself at how friendly he had been to the stranger. It was far from how he normally acted around people he didn’t know. Maybe the good-hearted nature of the Canadians around him was rubbing off on him.

Yuri snapped a selfie with the Terimayo hot dog in his hand and the waterfront in the background, and posted it to Instagram.

 **yuri-plisetsky:** _This Russian tiger is about to enjoy his first Japanese hot dog… in Canada…_ #smallworld #JapaDog #extrakimchiisamust

Ever since Yuri went to Hasetsu for the first time when he was fifteen, he had been in love with the Japanese cuisine. It was so different from what he was used to in Russia, less heavy but so much more intense when it came to flavours. The food Yuuri’s mother always made for him when he visited was hard to describe. Yuri just loved it. Everything he had ever tasted on his trips to Japan was so well-balanced. He loved how sweet and salty combined made his mouth explode and how good a perfect ramen made him feel inside.

The combination of traditional Japanese cuisine with a hot dog had seemed a little odd to him when Victor first told Yuri about it, but the older Russian had insisted that it was absolutely heavenly. Now that Yuri finally had a chance to discover the joys of a JapaDog for himself, he grudgingly had to agree with Victor. It was delicious.

Yuri threw his napkin into the nearest trash when his phone buzzed. It was difficult for him not to hope that it was Otabek reaching out to him but alas, it was an Instagram notification.

 **nishigori-y:** _How was it? Victor said they’re amazing!_

Yuuko and Yuri had stayed in touch ever since they met over four years prior. Yuri was happy to hear from her, finally a friendly face he thought fondly of. There were countless reasons why Yuri liked her so much but one of them was that Yuuko was someone Yuri was not afraid of disappointing. She liked him for him and not for his accomplishments which was something only a few people did.

 **yuri-plisetsky:** _@nishigori-y It was delicious! Sooo good! Not as good as Katsudon’s mom’s food but close._

Strolling down the streets a little more, Yuri’s thoughts wandered aimlessly. He thought of nothing and no one in particular. He wanted to clear his head, knowing that he had to deliver perfection the next day. Yuri was desperate, and determined, to show everyone, especially Otabek, that his miserable short program was a one-time thing, something he wouldn’t let define him.

 **nishigori-y:** _Yeah, Hiroko’s food is hard to beat. ;) Have you been to the cat café yet?_

Yuri almost dropped his phone when he read her comment. Cat café? What? Vancouver had one of those? Yuri was stunned that he had never thought about checking google for it, but now that Yuuko mentioned it, Yuri desperately wanted to go.

 **yuri-plisetsky:** _@nishigori-y WHAT? No! On my way there right now though…_

Since Yuri had no idea what the café was called, he did end up using google to find out where it was. As it turned out, Yuri was not very far from the Catfé, only about a 15-minute walk away from the Waterfront.

When Yuri arrived at the café, his eyes were sparkling with excitement and he knew it. Luckily for him, it seemed rather quiet and he didn’t have any problems getting a spot as a walk-in. A quick glance at their website had told him that most people booked online to visit but since that wasn’t an option, Yuri was extra happy that it wasn’t busy and they let him in.

Yuri got himself a bottle of water with a glass of ice. After the hotdog, he felt guilty enough that he couldn’t justify a sugary drink on top of that. Lilia would kill him if she found out.

Once Yuri got himself a seat near the window, he made himself comfortable and looked around to have a closer look at all the cats around him. There were only a handful of other people there with him and they all had company, talking to themselves. Yuri wouldn’t want to talk to anyone anyway, but knowing they were all distracted otherwise was still good to know.

All in all there were eleven cats in the café. Most of them were obviously pretty young and curious enough to wander over to him to check him out, but it was a rather shy one that got Yuri’s attention. He had the strong urge to go over to her. She was eyeing him suspiciously and didn’t make any attempt to go over to him. Most of her short fur was a beautiful light grey colour but her belly, legs, paws, and the area around her mouth and nose were pure white. _She is gorgeous_ , Yuri thought.

He must have been staring at her for a little while when he noticed one of the ladies that worked at the café sit down next to him.

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” the lady asked, her eyes also fixed on the cat.

“Yeah,” Yuri all but managed to reply. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the furry thing.

“Her name is Owl,” the woman next to Yuri told him. “She’s about three and a half years old, the oldest here.”

Yuri silently nodded. Owl was staring at him just as much as he was staring at her. He felt weird, a little awkward even, but there was something about her that Yuri loved. He just couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“She is very shy. Don’t take it personally,” the lady then said, smiling at Yuri.

He returned the sentiment with a small smile of his own. When the woman had left, Yuri got his phone out and made sure that it was on mute so he wouldn’t scare any of the cats. He couldn’t help himself, he had to take at least one photo of Owl. One turned into about twenty and they were all perfect. Owl sat so still, her eyes almost dangerously fixed on Yuri, that it was practically impossible to take a bad photo of her. Her green eyes were shining brightly and her pink nose was all rosy.

Just when Yuri was about to take yet another photo, one that would look exactly the same as the twenty he already took, Owl got up on her feet and stretched but she never took her eyes off of him. Yuri’s breath hitched a little in surprise when Owl started to move cautiously in his direction. He didn’t have high hopes that she would actually make it to him but in case she did, Yuri got up from the bench as slowly as he could so he wouldn’t startle her, and sat down on the floor in front of it, leaning back against the bench and crossing his legs. 

It took another couple of minutes but eventually Owl was so close to him that Yuri was able to touch her, only he didn’t. He didn’t want to scare her off. She was clearly an incredibly shy girl but something had made her come to him. Yuri kept his hands to himself and just kept staring at her. She was occasionally sniffing the area around him before she actually rubbed herself against Yuri’s leg. Her fur was so shiny and it looked incredibly soft. Owl was rubbing her face and nose against his leg a few more times before she lifted herself up on him and gracefully climbed into Yuri’s lap. She settled down almost immediately, her head resting on one of Yuri’s knees and her eyes closed contently. Yuri was absolutely stunned.

Against his better judgement, Yuri reached out and carefully started to stroke her beautiful fur. It was as soft as it looked and Owl even started to purr a little, telling Yuri that him touching her was actually ok. Yuri exhaled, relief washing over him. He still didn’t really know why Owl intrigued him so much but she had put her trust in him, no questions asked.

Yuri was incredibly overwhelmed just then. Trust was a foreign concept to him, one he had to analyse again and again, no matter how old he was or who he was planning on putting his trust in.

Completely lost in the feeling of beautifully soft fur underneath his fingertips, Yuri wasn’t instantly aware of someone coming to a halt in front of him. Only when that person cleared his throat, did Yuri lift his head. He expected the lady from before, gushing over him and Owl in his lap but instead he found his best friend standing in front of him, his face devoid of all and any emotion except for one thing that Yuri couldn’t possibly define.

“Hi,” Otabek said quietly when Yuri’s eyes found him.

Yuri felt his mouth hanging open a little before he returned the greeting.

“Hi.”

As Yuri watched Otabek sit down on the floor right in front of him, cross-legged as well and their knees touching, Yuri felt his heart beat faster almost instantly. His chest tightened to the extent that he momentarily forgot how to breathe. Looking at Otabek quickly became too much for Yuri and he turned his attention back to Owl snoozing in his lap. Otabek stayed quiet and Yuri kept stroking Owl’s fur before he spoke up again.

“How did you know I was here?” Yuri asked, his voice small and uncertain.

“I saw your Instagram post and Yuuko’s comments,” Otabek explained quickly but equally as quiet.

Yuri only nodded to indicate that he understood, mentally though he wanted to slap himself. How could he forget that Otabek was likely to see his post?

“Yura,” Otabek eventually said to get his attention, after they had both been silent for quite a while. “What’s going on with you?”

Swallowing down the imaginary lump that was stuck in Yuri’s thought, he debated internally what his best strategy would be here in this situation. He could lie of course, it wouldn’t be the first time after all, but he didn’t want to make a habit out of lying to Otabek. He could also just tell him the truth. Surely Otabek would understand that Yuri was a bit freaked out by it all, but he couldn’t bring himself to make himself this vulnerable either. In the end Yuri just tried to pass it all off as if it was water under the bridge, hoping that Otabek would let it leave it at that.

“It’s nothing,” Yuri said, his fingers still in Owl’s fur. “I’m all ok now.”

Otabek regarded him suspiciously for a moment, his brows furrowed and his eyes squinted almost shut.

“You’re lying,” he simply said in a way that didn’t leave any room for discussion.

Yuri sighed visibly. He realised there was no point in keeping up this charade when Otabek so easily saw through it. Yuri knew he had to tell him the truth, but he was determined to only tell his friend as much as he absolutely had to for Otabek to understand that Yuri’s mind was a little messed up. He would keep the details to himself.

“Fine,” Yuri gave in, defeated. He inhaled deeply, mentally preparing himself for this conversation that he definitely didn’t want to have. “After I left your room two nights ago, I had a dream,” he began, unsure over what exactly to say next, “about you.”

Otabek immediately raised one eyebrow in what looked like confusion. He obviously didn’t think much of it and he didn’t seem surprised either. “So?”

Yuri looked at him for a moment and then the words just came out before he had any chance to stop them. There were many things Yuri had taken away from his dream but one thing clearly overshadowed everything else.

“I can’t lose you, ok?” Yuri said, his voice dangerously close to cracking. It should be the simplest thing in the world, telling Otabek that he can’t live without him anymore, so why was this so difficult? The most important thing Yuri came to realise when he thought about the dream was that he would do everything he could do to keep Otabek in his life, one way or another. Yuri knew what he said was very vague and could be interpreted in many different ways, but the bottom line remained the same regardless of whether or not he told Otabek about what he had really dreamt.

“What are you talking about, Yura? I’m not going anywhere,” Otabek said. He leaned forward and gently put two fingers under Yuri’s chin, lifting his head up and forcing Yuri to look at him. “Is that why you were so out of it all day yesterday? Because of your dream?”

Yuri could clearly feel his eyes filling with tears and as soon as he blinked the first one rolled down his cheek. Otabek carefully pushed a loose strand of his hair back behind his ear before he brushed away the tear with his thumb.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” Otabek then asked, his hand still on the side of Yuri’s face.

Looking at Otabek right then and words failing him, Yuri just wanted to lean forward and embrace Otabek but despite the other man’s intense stare on him, Yuri still remembered that Owl was lying in his lap. Yuri simply shrugged his shoulders in response.

“Don’t let some irrational dream get in the way of your skating, Yura. You are better than that,” Otabek almost whispered, but to Yuri every word was crystal clear. “I’m always here for you, do you understand that? Don’t shut me out when you’re struggling, whatever it is you’re struggling with. I am not leaving you.”

Yuri was strangely surprised at the sincerity in Otabek’s voice. He meant every word.

When more tears fell from Yuri’s eyes, one of Otabek’s hand wandered behind Yuri’s head and into his hair. He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Yuri’s forehead.

“I’m serious,” Otabek then added belatedly, his breath on Yuri’s skin, before he pressed another innocent kiss to his skin and leaned back again. Yuri only managed to nod weakly, his heart warm with the kind of feeling he didn’t expect to ever be able to experience.

Owl was stirring in his lap when she briefly opened her eyes to look at Otabek, which prompted Yuri and Otabek to stay completely still. The cat then turned her head around to look at Yuri and the Russian couldn’t help but chuckle at her. Her eyes gave him the impression that she was asking him if she could rely on Otabek to be nice to her.

Yuri leaned down close to her ears. “You can trust him,” he whispered to her, and then looked up at Otabek. “He would never hurt you,” Yuri added and hoped that Otabek would understand that he wasn’t really talking about Owl anymore.

They spent another thirty minutes or so at the café, talking about their upcoming free skate routines. Not one word was uttered about the previous night and Yuri was grateful that Otabek didn’t bring it up again. Most of the other cats came over to them at some point or another and Yuri’s smile didn’t seem to vanish. He was clearly in his element surrounded by the felines.

“You want to see Mila’s routine tonight, right?” Otabek eventually asked while he picked up a tiny kitten with pitch-black fur. Yuri nodded in response, his face nuzzled in Owl’s fur again. “Do you want to go grab something to eat before we have to head to the arena?”

"Sure," was all Yuri said and everything suddenly seemed to fall into place again. This was the way it was supposed to be. Him and Otabek, friends who could count on each other.

Yuri reluctantly let go of Owl when his hour at the café was up. He wished he could take her home but he knew that was impossible. On their way out, the lady from before stopped him and Otabek, telling Yuri that she was really surprised how affectionate Owl had been with him. She said the cat had never approached anyone on her own before, let alone sat in someone’s lap, for almost an hour as well. The lady kept gushing over Yuri and Owl’s obvious ‘connection’ when Otabek politely cut in and thanked her for having them, before he pushed Yuri out the door.

“I had to,” Otabek said, shrugging one shoulder, when they were finally on the street. Yuri only laughed in response as they started walking in the vague direction of the arena to find a place to eat.

* * * 

They went to a French bistro even though Otabek was well aware of Yuri’s aversion to French food, but despite all of Yuri’s various complaints Otabek dragged him in. The Kazakh may have had good intentions but Yuri still wasn’t convinced when the waitress cleared their plates.

“I will get back at you for this. You know that, right?” Yuri asked his friend when they left the restaurant.

“You make it all sound so much worse than it was,” Otabek just said, a smug smirk on his lips.

By the time they arrived at the arena for the ladies’ short program, it had gotten incredibly cold outside, not that it would be any warmer near the ice either.

The entire arena was bursting with excitement and anticipation. Yuri was really looking forward to seeing Mila’s routine. He knew how good it was but seeing it in a competition was different than seeing it at practice back home in St. Petersburg.

As expected, Mila had shown everyone what she was made of. Her red hair was so distinct that she stood out even before she had entered the ice and her routine was so elegant, yet exciting, a wonderful representation of her personality. Yuri wasn’t the kind of person to cheer loudly or stand up to applaud someone but that didn’t mean he wasn’t proud of what Mila had presented. He definitely was.

On their short way back to the hotel, Yuri started yawning occasionally and he realised how long his day had been. He had gotten up before everyone else had and didn’t really take a break throughout the day. He was so tempted to hook his arm under Otabek’s and lean his head on his shoulder while they walked, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had done it many times in the past and Otabek had never objected to it in any kind of way but just the thought of doing it now was making Yuri strangly uncomfortable.

Otabek didn’t leave Yuri’s side until they reached the younger one’s room. Yuri was grateful for everything Otabek had done, for not giving up on him so easily, but he still couldn’t ignore the awkwardness hanging in the air between them and he had to wonder if Otabek felt it too. If he did, he didn’t show any signs of it.

“Get some sleep, kitten,” Otabek said to him when Yuri opened his door with his key card.

“I will,” was all Yuri came up with as a response. He smiled at Otabek, fighting with himself not to do anything stupid now, before he reluctantly closed the door behind him.

* * * 

Yuri used the next morning for one last practice, that was, according to Yakov and Lilia, almost decent, which pretty much meant it was close to perfect. They would never say it in so many words but that was basically what they were saying, and Yuri knew it. He saw Otabek grin at him like an idiot when they left the rink together with their coaches as well as Yuuri and Victor to head to the arena to watch Mila’s free skate, which was, obviously, pretty amazing.

The men’s free skate was about to start and Yuri felt the minutes ticking by. His anxiety made a spectacular return when Phichit took the ice for his program. Yuri could feel his stomach doing flip flops in a way it hadn’t done in a while. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this nervous before a competition. Anxiety was an old, yet unwelcomed, friend of his but usually not when he was about to skate. That was the only thing Yuri knew he excelled at but thoughts from his short program forced him back to reality. He was determined to not let anything get in his way now which was apparently easier said than done.

When it was JJ’s turn, Yuri was starting to get scared. He was afraid he would fail, again, despite his best efforts. Yuri would give it his all this time around but he was scared that it wouldn’t be good enough.

“You can do this, you know?” Otabek said, suddenly appearing by his side.

“I’m not so sure about that anymore,” Yuri admitted sadly. He had never doubted his skating abilities, just his strength to make the most of them.

“Listen to me, Yura,” Otabek said, grabbing Yuri by both his shoulders. “You’re Yuri fucking Plisetsky, Ice Tiger of Russia, blonde fairy extraordinaire and also the kind of awesome best friend everyone is jealous of me having. You’re not the kind of guy who doubts himself but you _are_ someone who knows his skating is perfect, who knows that _he_ is perfect. There’s only thing in my life I’m absolutely, a hundred percent sure of. You want to know what that is?” Otabek asked, clearly not really expecting an answer but Yuri nodded anyway and Otabek continued. “I’m absolutely certain that you can do this and you’re not only going to perform this amazing routine of yours to damn perfection, you’re going to blow everyone’s mind. Every single person who has ever doubted you, even just for a second, will lose their shit tonight because you’re going to show them that you’re still the same incredibly talented Yuri Plisetsky that won the Grand Prix Final when he was only 15. You got that?”

Yuri was just looking at Otabek like there was literally no one else on the planet. He heard every word Otabek just said to him but he couldn’t actually process many of them.

Instead of saying anything, Yuri simply flung his arms around Otabek’s torso and held on for dear life. Yuri didn’t see Victor and Yuuri standing not that far from them, suddenly holding hands whilst watching the two of them with that kind of affectionate look in their eyes that Yuri would normally shout at them for. He also wasn’t aware of Chris standing on the other side of the room, barely able to hide the small grin gracing his lips. Yuri didn’t take notice of Otabek’s and Chris’ coach trying to pretend they weren’t also staring at him and Otabek, and he didn’t see Yakov and Lilia waiting for him by the door.

Yuri felt the small kiss Otabek pressed to the side of his head just before he heard Yakov calling his name. He didn’t want to let go. It was Otabek who eventually pulled back to look at him.

“I’ll be right behind you cheering you on from the side line,” he said, smiling.

“Let’s go, Yuri,” Lilia said with a tone of voice Yuri hadn’t heard from her in a long time.

Yuri forced himself to let go of Otabek and then followed Yakov and Lilia to the rink.

“Yura,” Otabek called after him just before he was out of the door. “Davai.”

Kicking the urge to run back and hug Otabek again, Yuri smiled at him and finally left to make his way to the rink. Yuri watched the end of JJ’s routine, which was surprisingly average for the Canadian, when Yuri’s phone buzzed. He knew he shouldn’t be checking it right now and he half expected Yakov to rip it out of his hands but he didn’t. It was an Instagram notification, alerting him that someone had tagged him in a photo.

Yuri opened the app to find it was Otabek who had just tagged him in a post. The photo showed Yuri with Owl in his lap, his sparkling eyes transfixed on the kitten while he stroked her gorgeous light grey fur. Yuri didn’t remember Otabek taking that photo the previous day but it didn’t even matter to him when he read the caption of the photo.

 **otabek-altin:** _When your big kitten meets a smaller version of himself… #hisnameisYuri #hernameisOwl #theyareinlove #iamtoo #vancouver #gpf #catfe #Owlisabeauty_

As soon as he finished reading what Otabek had written, Yuri registered the music to JJ’s free skate ending. Yuri didn’t really know it right then but his heart was pretty much jumping through loops at that point, but he had to pull himself together for the task ahead.

While JJ was in the kiss and cry waiting for his what could only be described as mediocre result, Yuri rid himself of his skate guards and went on the ice.

The first step forward felt like a first step in the right direction.

 _I can do this_ , Yuri said to himself over and over and over again. He needed to trust himself and what he was capable of as much as Owl had trusted him. He had to believe that he was indeed still the same person that had won the Grand Prix Final at his senior debut, and he sure as hell had to show Otabek that his faith in him wasn’t wasted.

Yuri came to a halt in the middle of the ice. He took a deep breath and waited for the music to start. Lilia had helped him choreograph his routine to “Adiós Nonino”, a piece he chose mainly for the piano parts that reminded him so much of Otabek’s original songs. Yuri closed his eyes and as soon as the music started, he felt it take over his entire body, his entire being.

When he started to move, he thought about Otabek sitting at his piano in his flat back in Almaty. He thought about his grandfather making pirozhki for him, and Yuuko texting him photos of the triplets waving at the camera. He thought about the first time he had met Victor and how enthralled he had been, and even about how much he had laughed when Georgi put make-up on his eyes for his exhibition piece at his first senior Grand Prix Final. He thought about how the sand had felt underneath his feet the first time he went to the beach in Hasetsu with Yuuri, Victor and Makkachin. Most importantly he thought about how he had felt when he realised he had won gold in Barcelona all those years ago.

Yuri pictured how Otabek’s fingers were running over the piano keys so effortlessly, and he tried his best to do what they seemed to do so flawlessly. He wanted his body to move as elegantly and purposefully as Otabek’s fingers did when he played piano, and Yuri did exactly that. His body moved along to the music as if they were one and the same thing. Yuri’s entire mind was focussed on the music and what it invoked inside of him, all the memories he cherished and all the people who willingly joined him on the ride to help him become the best version of himself he could possibly be.

The cheers from the audience were reduced to incoherent background noise right from the beginning. Yuri concentrated solely on his routine, executing his jumps, steps and spins to the high standard people have come to expect from him, but Yuri didn’t skate for just anyone. He skated mainly for Otabek and he hoped that his friend would see that. He had his confidence back and Otabek was the very reason he did.

When the music came to an end, Yuri had a hard time keeping his eyes open. He held his final position for the briefest of moments before he let his head fall down to his chest, his body otherwise rigid with that overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this chapter is already longer than I anticipated, so I decided to add another chapter.
> 
> Yuri's FS is based on Yuna Kim's FS from the Sochi Winter Olympics 2014. She is so gorgeous and her routine was amazing. I wanted Yuri to skate something as intense and equally delicate as that so "Adiós Nonino" was my first choice for him here. 
> 
> The last and final chapter of this fic will cover the aftermath of Yuri's FS and the gala exhibition.


	4. Melomanie.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri comes to realise a few things after his Free skate and a tipsy talk to Otabek. During the exhibition gala Victor gets to see Yuri's soft side while Otabek shows everyone a completely different side of himself as well.

Hearing his name being called out somewhere in the distance, Yuri lifted his head again to find the person he knew that voice belonged to. Otabek was there, in a sea of blurred faces, and mumbled screams and cheers, looking straight at him.

Yuri couldn’t tell how long he had been standing on the ice, just staring at his friend, when he saw Yakov gesturing with his hands next to Otabek, telling him to get a move on by waving at him wildly. He eventually snapped out of his haze and quickly made his way to the barrier where he stepped off the ice to put on the skate guards Lilia handed him.

All Yuri really wanted to do was talk to Otabek and apologise for being an idiot, but Yakov was already grabbing his arm before he had a chance to go over to his best friend. Yakov dragged Yuri away to the kiss and cry where they waited for Yuri’s final result.

Yuri didn’t really understand why Yakov and Lilia didn’t give him a chance to talk to Otabek for a second, when they normally didn’t mind. When he sat between the two of them, Yuri didn’t realise that they were anxiously waiting for the score. He didn’t see how they both fidgeted in their seats, which was so very unlike them, and he didn’t know that they were this nervous because Yuri had just delivered one of the most flawless performances of this season, perhaps even his career. He was oblivious to all of these things because his eyes were still fixed on Otabek, who wasn’t standing far away from him, just out of sight of the cameras, but to Yuri it felt like ten thousand miles too far.

His Free skate result was secondary to Yuri. The only thing he was determined to do before he had stepped on the ice, was to give it his all, and deep down he knew that he did exactly that. Whatever the outcome was, it didn’t really matter anymore. It didn’t erase his disastrous Short program score and it wouldn’t really change anything else important.

The announcement finally came but Yuri only registered a word here and there, none of them forming any actual sentences that made sense to him. While Yakov and Lilia’s eyes were glued to the screen in front of them, Yuri’s eyes wouldn’t budge away from Otabek’s. When he felt Yakov and Lilia almost crushing his ribs hugging him, Yuri finally took notice of the scoreboard. He was in first place (with three skaters still to go) but that wasn’t what surprised Yuri the most. He had also set a new Grand Prix record.

Yuri had a hard time understanding what followed after the realisation hit him that his determination had actually been rewarded with a high score. It was beyond him. He couldn’t comprehend how that was possible.

Still in trance, Yuri automatically stood up when Yakov and Lilia did. He followed them but his mind was somewhere else entirely. His gaze was fixed on the ground in front of him as he walked, until he felt a hand reaching out and grabbing his. When he looked up, he finally saw that face that he had been longing to see.

Before Otabek could say a word, Yuri beat him to it.

“I’m sorry,” Yuri offered quickly, stunned by the confused look Otabek gave him because of it.

“About what?” Otabek wondered out loud.

Yuri didn’t know how to explain that he was apologising for everything he had done wrong since arriving in Vancouver. He couldn’t actually say that he was sorry for having had an inappropriate dream about his best friend, or for shutting Otabek out and ignoring him instead of talking to him and trusting that he would understand if he told him about it, or for probably making Otabek feel like _he_ did something wrong. Yuri didn’t know how to say sorry for any of it.

“For disappointing you,” Yuri eventually mumbled.

He hoped that Otabek would understand that he actually meant so much more than just that.

Yuri was already being whisked away again by Yakov before Otabek had a chance to respond, their hands holding on to each other as long as they could before letting go.

When Yuri got to the locker room where he was finally able to untie his skates and take them off, he wanted to cry. Everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes or so came crashing down on him in one massive wave he couldn’t possibly avoid. It was so much all at once that it was so very difficult for him to wrap his head around anything.

He watched Christophe’s and Yuuri’s Free skate routines backstage on the screen. Since Otabek finished first with his Short program, he was the last one to take to the ice for his Free skate and Yuri made his way back to the rink as soon as it was his turn.

Yuri sat down in the stands, two rows behind Phichit, JJ and Christophe as well as their coaches, with Yuuri and Victor joining him as soon as the former had received his score. He desperately wanted to growl at Victor when the older man flung his arm around Yuri’s shoulder, but he didn’t have the energy to do that. Instead he almost gently shrugged Victor’s arm off.

“No touching, old man,” he barked at the fellow Russian but it was far from convincing.

He turned his attention back to Otabek who was making his way to the middle of the ice for the start of his Free skate, when he saw Yuuri’s hand patting him on the knee out of the corner of his eyes.

“You were amazing, Yurio.”

Yuri’s eyes were sparkling when he looked at Yuuri, he knew that. Amazing wasn’t necessarily the word he would’ve used (because he still wasn’t convinced that it was true) but he tried his best to go back to his old ways so he exuded self-confidence with his reply.

“I know,” Yuri said as he pushed the other man’s hand away from his knee. “Now both of you, stop the groping,” he added for good measure, the older men to his side only laughing at him.

When Otabek’s music began to play, Yuri’s eyes were glued to the Kazakh skater once again. He unconsciously leaned forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his thighs while his hands were laced together and resting under his chin. Watching Otabek skate was like a watching a million fish in an aquarium – even when you wanted to look away you couldn’t, even when you thought you had seen everything and every fish in the tank, there was something new to be discovered. It was impossible not to be transfixed by Otabek.

The music was dramatic and melancholic in a way that Otabek himself was. Whenever Yuri saw Otabek on the ice, he felt a sense of honour to know someone as versatile and mysterious as his friend. Otabek wasn’t the kind of person a lot of people immediately connected with A lot of that was down to Otabek himself and not for other people’s lack of trying. Yuri had no idea why Otabek had decided all those years ago that he was worthy to get to know the real Otabek. It seemed a bit unreal then and it seemed almost absurd now.

The entire arena was on their feet when Otabek came to a halt as the music faded out. Victor and Yuuri were cheering loudly next to him, while Yuri’s lips were curled in a way that could only be described as the ultimate definition of a smug smirk. If anyone was ever wondering what a cocky smile really looked like, they would only have to look at Yuri right there in the stands watching as Otabek waved at the audience. Yuri told Otabek that he would win this competition and judging by what he had just witnessed, he had been right.

Yuri’s eyes followed Otabek as he made his way to the kiss and cry, and while his score was lower than Yuri’s, he finished the Grand Prix Final in the top spot because of his perfect Short program. When Yuri saw the final scoreboard with all the results, he was just incredibly proud of Otabek. He didn’t even care that he somehow managed to grab the bloody silver medal in the end. It didn’t matter.

The press and cameras were all over Otabek so Yuri didn’t get an opportunity to talk to him until the medal ceremony was about to commence.

Waiting at the barrier for the announcements, Yuri shrugged his shoulders and grinned at Otabek with one eyebrow raised as if to say _I told you so_ , just before Otabek stepped back onto the ice as the gold medal winner. Otabek went out to bow down a couple of times before he took his place on the top spot of the podium. Yuri kept grinning at him, ultimately missing his cue to get moving himself. He was completely out of it until Otabek looked at him questioningly with shining eyes. It was Victor who gave him a little push and Yuri finally realised that it was indeed his turn. He had somehow managed to win silver after screwing up so gravely with his Short program. It was hard to believe that he turned this whole thing around. Yuuri followed shortly after him, having finished in third place and completing the podium of the Grand Prix Final in Vancouver.

After the medals were placed around their necks and the flower bouquets were handed out to them, the national anthem of Kazakhstan echoed through the arena in honour of Otabek winning his well-deserved gold medal. Yuri was grateful for the silver around his neck but he found that ultimately it would not have made a difference whether or not he won a medal. All he had really wanted was to see Otabek on the highest podium place and that was what he got.

When the national anthem ended, Otabek dropped his flowers to the ice and gestured for the two men to his side to join him on the top spot. Otabek put his arms over their shoulders, all of them smiling into the camera as happily as they could, and it was an easy thing to do because they _were_ happy.

The harsh flashlights from the cameras were directed the three of them for a minute or two. In the middle of it all Otabek leaned over to Yuri, his lips dangerously close to Yuri’s ear.

“Welcome back,” Otabek whispered, and Yuri thought his face was going to crack because the smile spreading across it then was so close to hurting painfully.

Yuri didn’t say anything but he kept smiling and he briefly squeezed Otabek’s waist where his hand was as a sign of gratitude.

* * * 

With their medals still hanging around their necks, Yuri and Otabek tumbled back to their hotel high on adrenaline. Yuri thought he hadn’t laughed this much and especially this carefree since he stayed with Otabek in Almaty at the beginning of the off-season earlier in the year. He hadn’t quite forgotten about his dream but by now it was only ghosting around in the back of his mind. Otabek didn’t just give up on him when he pushed him away. He had held onto him and Yuri ultimately decided that that was the only thing that counted.

They parted ways in front of Yuri’s room, agreeing to meet up again after a quick shower. Yuri threw his bag on the floor as soon as he was inside his room. He was exhausted, happy but exhausted. When he took off his silver medal, he inspected it suspiciously. He still didn’t know how he managed to get this far and he realised without too much annoyance that it was a riddle he would probably never be able to solve.

Yuri relished the hot water rushing down his aching muscles when he stepped underneath the shower head. Any and every thought was speeding through his mind, none of them coming to a halt long enough to be relevant right then. He was happy in a way he had never been before.

When he stepped out of the steaming bathroom with a fluffy white towel around his waist and another one flung over his shoulders, Yuri noticed his phone blinking. Victor had texted him to ask if him and Otabek wanted to join the rest of them for a drink down at the bar. He was actually considering it for a second but declined the invitation nevertheless. Once he hit the send button he realised he hadn’t even incorporated an insult in his text. Shaking his head at himself, the next thing Yuri heard was a knock on his door.

He opened the door for Otabek as fast as he could, barely registering that he was still only dressed in a towel, although it wasn’t like Otabek had never seen him like that before.

“You’re wet,” Otabek dead-panned at him when he walked into the room.

“A+ observation, Beka,” Yuri replied, chuckling. “Give me a minute,” he added before he disappeared in the bathroom.

Once dressed and his hair at least towel-dried, Yuri went back out to find Otabek sitting on his bed, leaning again the headboard, legs crossed by the ankles and TV remote in his hand.

“Do you want to go downstairs for a drink?” Otabek asked absent-mindedly, his eyes on the television screen.

When Yuri didn’t reply, Otabek looked up at him and his eyes went wide immediately but only for the briefest of moments, before he started laughing.

Yuri was dressed in a pair of blue leopard-print leggings and Otabek’s team Kazakhstan t-shirt, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Otabek eventually said, still looking Yuri up and down.

“Stop staring,” Yuri playfully growled at him before he flopped down on the bed next to him and then added, “and stop laughing.”

“I can’t believe you brought that shirt with you,” Otabek teased, grabbing a bit of the shirt and pulling at it.

Yuri pushed his hand away, straightening the shirt where Otabek had wrinkled it, as if it was his most precious possession, which it probably was to some degree or another.

“Victor texted to ask if we want to join everyone else at the bar,” Yuri informed his friend as he snatched the remote from his hand and started flicking through the channels.

“And you said no?” Otabek enquired in a tone of voice that told Yuri that he already knew the answer.

“Of course,” Yuri quickly responded as if there was no other acceptable answer to that question. “I know it’s late but I’m starving. How about room service? And champagne? And ice cream?”

Before Yuri could ramble on any more, Otabek pressed the room service menu in his hands and asked “What do you want?”

They both decided on the greasiest thing on the menu, something they should but definitely wouldn’t feel guilty about later, as well as some fruity prosecco Yuri demanded along with some ice cream. When Yuri heard Otabek order their food and drinks over the phone, Yuri could already feel a slight hangover coming on just from the sound of it all.

While they waited for their food, Yuri forced Otabek into his pair of black sweatpants that turned out to be a little tighter on Otabek than they usually were on Yuri, but neither one of them seemed to particularly care. Yuri couldn’t stand the sight of Otabek in his jeans so the sweatpants had to do. They were supposed to relax and jeans just didn’t allow that, at least according to Yuri.

Their burgers arrived not long after and they both fell down to the ground, Yuri sitting cross-legged and leaning back against the sofa while Otabek positioned himself in the exact same way he had been sitting on the bed before, legs out and crossed by the ankles. Otabek opened the prosecco, they munched on their burgers and fries, the television only providing background noise as usual.

“Can I ask you something?” Otabek suddenly asked hesitantly.

Yuri picked up on it but didn’t comment on it. Instead he just shrugged his shoulders and said, “Sure.”

Otabek wiped his mouth and grabbed his drink before he looked at Yuri again, uncertainty evident in his eyes and basically all over his face.

“When you told me about that dream you had,” he began, his eyes incredibly tense on Yuri while the younger man immediately stopped chewing, “you said that you can’t lose me.” Otabek said it more like a statement. Yuri couldn’t decipher a question in it.

“Yeah?” Yuri practically whispered before picking up a napkin with his free hand, the other one still holding his burger.

“I wasn’t dying in that dream, was I?” Otabek then almost stuttered.

Yuri put his burger down silently, wiping his fingers semi-clean before he picked up his drink and downed the entire glass in one go. “No,” he admitted once the glass was empty.

Otabek wordlessly nodded for a moment, obviously thinking about what he should ask next or if he should even ask anything else, but he did.

“Then what did you mean when you said you can’t lose me?”

Yuri only had two glasses of prosecco at that point but it somehow made him a little braver. If anything, he could blame whatever this conversation would lead to in the end, to the alcohol they consumed. First though, he was trying to see if there was still a way out of this.

“Why do you ask?” he wanted to know, hoping that Otabek would let it slide or at least present him an opportunity for him to twist the truth a little so he would be a tiny bit less embarrassed.

“Because after you told me that you had a dream about me, you were still acting weird around me. That only changed when you came off the ice after your Free skate. Things seem to be normal again now,” Otabek tried to explain.

“Then why make it awkward with an interrogation?” Yuri couldn’t help but ask in response but he was smiling in an attempt to lift the mood.

Otabek smiled back at him before his lips suddenly curled up into the most vicious smirk Yuri had ever seen on him. “What?” Yuri blurted out because that smirk was as terrifying as it was intriguing.

“Do you want to know what I think your dream was about?” Otabek queried teasingly.

Yuri knew he was playing with fire when he choked out a yes.

“I think,” Otabek said and then leaned forward to open the door to the mini fridge, “that your dream wasn’t just about me. It was about us.” He grabbed a few tiny bottles of liquor out of the fridge, putting them all down on the floor between him and Yuri. Otabek picked up the two small bottles of Jack Daniels, opened one of them and passed it over to Yuri before he opened the other one. “I think we were doing things in your dream,” he began again and Yuri threw back the contents of the bottle as fast as he could because he suddenly knew exactly what Otabek was going to say next. “I think we were doing things friends normally don’t do,” Otabek whispered and Yuri grabbed another one of the bottles immediately, his eyes unable to look away from Otabek. “I think you freaked out because you thought you actually wanted to do what we did in your dream,” the older man continued, now finally drinking his own bottle of Jack Daniels. Yuri swallowed slowly and then opened the full bottle in his hands, put it to his lips and drank the entire content which tasted like burning coconut. “And I think because of that you were afraid you were going to ruin our friendship.”

Yuri didn’t even notice how he was unconsciously nodding his head, until Otabek looked away from him and started laughing. The dark-haired man sitting in front of him was laughing and Yuri had no idea why. Yuri wanted to be angry because everything Otabek had said was spot-on, but apparently it was too funny to him to see how it had completely messed with Yuri’s mind. Instead of being angry though all Yuri felt was a mix of adoration, relief and a tiny little bit of annoyance.

“What the fuck is so funny about this?” Yuri prompted and then grabbed another bottle.

“Yura,” Otabek sighed once he calmed down enough so he could at least talk. “You’re right. It’s not funny. I should actually be crying because I just can’t believe that you let something as silly as that dream come between you and your skating.”

“What do you mean?” Yuri immediately shot back.

Otabek was still chuckling when he emptied his second bottle of liquor. “It was just a dream, Yura. We are as close as friends can possibly be so I have to say I’m not entirely surprised that you dreamt about us in _that_ way. I know we are pretty touchy-feely most of the time but nothing has ever actually happened between us. That dream doesn’t mean anything unless you want it to.”

Yuri didn’t know what to say. He was completely stunned into silence.

“I just wish you would’ve talked to me about it. Just imagine what you could’ve achieved with your Short program if you had been thinking straight,” Otabek mused, his hand already extended again to grab another bottle.

Still unable to say anything, Yuri just watched how Otabek opened the bottle, how he put his head back and the bottle to his soft-looking lips, how the liquid disappeared in Otabek’s mouth and flooded down his throat. As soon as Yuri realised what he was thinking, he mentally slapped himself and shook his head.

“Yura, are we cool?” Otabek then said, pulling him out of his haze as well.

Otabek reached out and grabbed Yuri’s hand. He pressed his sticky lips to his knuckles and Yuri thought his insides were going to burst apart right there and then.

“Yura?” Otabek asked again, his voice seemingly miles away.

Looking away from where Otabek had kissed his hand, Yuri stared into his deep brown eyes but then remembered to actually answer.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, a small smile curving around his mouth, “we’re cool.”

Otabek might think that Yuri’s dream wasn’t a big deal but Yuri then realised that it was too late for him to pretend that that was the case. He knew that ship had sailed and there wasn’t really anything he could do about it.

“Let’s drink,” Yuri shouted, grabbing another bottle from between him and Otabek.

They raised their open bottles to toast their success, and Yuri accepted that he was absolutely screwed. That dream did mean something after all because he _wanted_ it to mean something.

* * *  

The next day was not only Yuri’s last full day in Vancouver, it was the last day he got to see Otabek before they both had to go back to their home rinks the following day. They wouldn’t see each other again until Four Continents and Yuri wasn’t sure yet if he was sad or actually relieved about that.

This entire Grand Prix event had been one hell of an emotional rollercoaster for Yuri and his exhibition piece was no exception. Now that he was about to perform it in public, he was as nervous as he could be without the danger of having to puke. When Yuri picked the music for the exhibition gala, he had been so sure that he would win the competition and that his routine would have no influence on anyone else, as he would be the last one to skate, but now that he knew that Otabek of all people was still skating his gala piece after him, uncertainty rose inside him.

Yuri’s theme for the season was “inspiration” and his exhibition routine was supposed to honour one of his biggest inspirations. When Yuri had first approached Victor with the idea for it, he was excited about it, and Victor had been too. They had choreographed it together to the music Yuri had picked out, and Yuri made the older Russian swear on Katsudon’s life that he wouldn’t tell anyone about his routine or the music.

“ _Next up is the 19-year old Russian who left us all speechless and in shock with his Short program, only to later come back even stronger than he had ever done before by setting a new Grand Prix record with his Free skate. Now he’s skating to an untitled original and instrumental composition by fellow skater Otabek Altin. Please welcome this year’s men’s silver medallist Yuri Plisetsky._ ”

When the announcement finished Yuri quickly glanced at Otabek who stood only a few feet away from him behind the barrier, and judging by the look on his face, Victor had kept his promise and didn’t tell anyone about his routine. Yuri grinned back at Otabek before he pushed himself away from the barrier and towards the middle of the ice.

Yuri let the first few piano notes pass by before he started to move. The exhibition routines are normally less serious and more upbeat than the competition programs but Yuri picked the slow song for a good reason. The sound of the piano was so pure and sounded so innocent. It represented something raw and fragile to him, something you admired from the distance but were too afraid to touch in case it might break. Choosing this specific song that Yuri knew Otabek had only ever shared with him was a sign of trust and yes, love, platonic or otherwise.

The upper half of Yuri’s hair was tied together in a long braid with the rest of his silky hair swinging freely around his shoulders and back while he was gliding over the ice. He had kept his outfit as simple as possible with a black pair of slacks and a white long-sleeved button down, the collar open. Yuri wanted the music to be the focus, wanted people to feel the intensity of it as much as he did.

Every spin he made, every leap of faith he took with another jump, and every step he moved forward made his heart grow bigger and bigger. Yuri had never felt this emotional during any of his performances but this wasn’t just simply another performance he would do and then tick off his list. This was special to him.

When the last note of the piano faded away, Yuri couldn’t help himself anymore. The shit-eating grin that normally never appeared in public suddenly made a very public appearance on his face. Looking around the stands, Yuri saw exactly what he expected in people’s expressions. They understood that this was special and they appreciated his honesty in a way they probably never thought they had to. Yuri didn’t just surprise Otabek, he surprised everyone.

The first person Yuri practically stormed towards once he made his way off the ice was Victor of all people. He couldn’t remember if had ever voluntarily hugged Victor, at least not while he was sober, but right then that was one of the things he was desperate to do. Victor was one of the reasons this routine meant so much to him. Without him, the piece would’ve never turned out the way it had and Yuri was grateful for that.

“Thank you,” was all Yuri whispered in Victor’s ear once he had put his arms tightly around the taller man’s waist and back.

Yuri could feel Victor hugging him back and pulling him in even closer. When they let go of each other Victor looked down at Yuri with what he thought was pride and affection.

Half-expecting him to mock Yuri for his sudden outburst of thankfulness, Yuri was pleasantly surprised when Victor made no attempt at making fun of him. “You’re welcome,” was all Victor said and Yuri knew right then that he could always count on Victor no matter what.

He smiled at him once more before he turned around to look for Otabek who was already standing at the barrier by the entrance to the ice, waiting for his cue to perform his own exhibition piece.

“Beka,” Yuri breathed out when he came to a halt next to Otabek. “That was,” he began to say but Otabek immediately interrupted him.

“I know,” he said smiling, his hand coming up to the side of Yuri’s face to push a loose strand of hair behind his ear the same way he had done countless times before.

Yuri was wondering if Otabek’s eyes were really shining with unshed tears or if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him, but he didn’t have a lot of time to mull over it.

He heard the same voice that was introducing him just minutes earlier now announce Otabek’s turn to the arena.

“ _For the final performance at this year’s Grand Prix Final, we have the 23-year old Kazakh skater that captured our hearts in no time with two absolutely flawless routines that perfectly showed why he finished this competition on top. Skating to “Stole the Show”, please raise your hands for the men’s gold medallist Otabek Altin.”_

Yuri briefly looked up as if he could see where the voice was coming from when he felt Otabek’s hand at the back of his neck pulling him forward a little bit. Otabek pressed his lips to Yuri’s forehead before he pulled back only to lean in again, their foreheads touching.

“Dance with me,” Otabek whispered out barely loud enough for Yuri to hear.

Confusion was Yuri’s first response but Otabek was already stepping on the ice. While Otabek skated a few rounds around the rink to greet and thank the audience, Victor, Yuuri and Mila joined Yuri at the barrier. Yuri quickly rid himself of his skates and gratefully took the shoes Mila offered him. She winked at him and Yuri just couldn’t stop himself from smiling back at her. A second later Mila and Yuuri were embracing him from either side, squashing him in the middle and kissing his cheeks while Victor held his phone up to take a photo of the attack. As much as Yuri was normally annoyed with them all, right there he didn’t actually mind having them around.

When the music for Otabek’s performance started, Yuri understood immediately what Otabek had meant when he asked Yuri to dance with him, but Yuri was still shocked for a moment. The music choice seemed very unusual for Otabek but the way his body moved, the loose black short-sleeve button down flinging around his defined torso in the wind, made it look like Otabek was born to skate to a song like this.

It seemed like every single soul in the arena was on their feet, laughing and dancing along, and genuinely having a great time. Granted those were insanely easy things to do because they were all watching Otabek skate this performance and it was incredibly hard to sit still or get grumpy watching the pure joy that was radiating from him. Otabek might have been a figure skater and someone who composed and remixed music, someone who practically breathed music, but he wasn’t really known as much of a dancer. This routine right there definitely proved the opposite.

As Yuri found himself completely enthralled by the way Otabek drew the audience in, he had to wonder if this competition and perhaps even the months leading up to it, and all the stupid things he had done, had not only put things in perspective for him but maybe even for Otabek too. Judging by the music Otabek had picked and the easiness with which he let completely loose on the ice now, Yuri had a feeling he might be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was by far the most difficult bit to write for this series so far, mainly because I was so immensely distracted with ideas for the next part/story. Because this was so difficult to write, I decided against covering the banquet in this chapter. The focus here was so much on the music (hence the title of the chapter) that I didn't want to take it too far.
> 
> \- To mention it again, Yuri's FS (mostly the music) was based on Yuna Kim's FS from the Sochi Winter Olympics.  
> \- I had planned on having Otabek win this GPF from the get-go, so I didn't really have anything specific in mind for his FS.  
> \- I did however have a specific song in mind for Yuri's EX piece. That song will come up again in the last part of this series which is why I'm not going to reveal what it actually is right now. Sooorry!  
> \- The EX music/routine and outfit that I pictured for Otabek while writing the bit about it, were stolen from Nathan Chen's absolutely amazing EX routine from the 2017 US Championships. (Watch it on youtube! It's sooooo good!)
> 
> This story is done... fiiinally! I'm starting the next one tomorrow and I'm really excited about that one... ;)
> 
> Many many thanks for the kudos/comments! Hope you all enjoyed the ending of this story. :)


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